• 


MEMORIAL 


OF 


LT.  DANIEL  PERKINS  DEWEY, 


OF  THE  TWENTY-FIFTH  REGIMENT 


CONNECTICUT   VOLUNTEERS 


HARTFORD: 

PRESS  OF  CASE,  LOCKWOOD  &  COMPANY. 
1864. 


.A.rt  thou.  faithful  ?    then  oppose 
Sin.  and.  xvTrong  -with,  all  thy  might; 

Care  not  how  the  tempest  blows, 
Only  care  to  \vin  the  fight. 

LYBA  GERMAKICA. 


.A.nd  wheresoe'er  in  earth's  wide  field. 
Ye  lift  for  Him  the  red-cross  shield, 
Be  this  your  song,  your  joy  and  pride, 
"  Our  Champion  went  "befbi'e  and  died." 
KEBLE'S  CHRISTIAN  YEAR. 


20131SS 


INTRODUCTION. 


WHEN  this  fearful  war  shall  be  ended,  and 
this  broad  land,  from  one  end  to  the  other,  shall 
echo  to  the  "  bells  of  cheer  "  as  they  "  ring 
peace  and  freedom  in  ;  "  when  our  cities,  towns 
and  villages  shall  receive  their  own  again,  saved 
from  the  bloody  fields  of  strife  ;  and  when  house- 
holds are  made  more  than  happy  by  the  welcome 
footsteps  of  returning  fathers,  husbands,  sons 
and  brethren,  kindred  and  friends,  it  will  be 
with  us  as  it  was  with  Judah  of  old  when  the 
captivity  of  Zion  was  released  from  its  bondage  ; 
we  shall  be  like  them  that  dream — our  heart  so 
filled  with  transport,  our  mouth  will  be  filled 
with  laughter,  and  our  tongue  with  singing ; — 
we  shall  rehearse  the  mighty  deliverances  as  one 
after  another  tells  his  thrilling  story,  and  we 
shall  respond  to  each  other,  as  they  did  to  the 
exclamations  of  the  wondering  heathen  around 
them,  "  Yea,  the  Lord  hath  done  great  things 
for  us,  whereof  we  rejoice." 
1* 


b  INTRODUCTION. 

But  in  many  a  once  happy  home,  silence  and 
mourning  must  take  the  place  of  joy  and  exulta- 
tion, for  however  much  the  heart  may  sympa- 
thize in  the  general  joy,  still  it  must  ache  while 
the  wounds  are  yet  bleeding  over  its  own  lost 
treasures  —  its  most  cherished  hopes  blighted, 
its  brightest  anticipations  darkened  in  perpetual 
gloom — for  a  father,  a  husband,  a  son,  a  broth- 
er, a  kinsman,  a  friend,  who  went  forth  with 
those  armies,  returns  not,  or  he  is  borne  silently 
homeward  only  to  be  laid  in  a  grave  upon  his 
native  soil,  and  to  rest  where  those  who  loved 
him  in  life  may  come  to  weep  with  bitter  tears 
over  the  mysterious  and  terrible  necessity  which 
claimed  a  sacrifice  so  priceless  to  their  souls. 
But  to  confine  our  minds  to  the  present  state  of 
our  country,  and  to  look  back  upon  what  has 
already  made  desolate  one  home  after  another, 
is  enough  for  busy  thought  and  wondering  in- 
quiry, when  young  men  of  so  much  promise  for 
any  and  all  the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  life, 
are  cut  down  in  their  early  morning,  as  they  have 
been  in  this  dreadful  war.  There  is  but  one 
consolation — God,  the  fountain  of  wisdom  and 
the  father  of  mercy,  has  suffered  it  to  be  so,  and 
we  must  bow  in  submission  to  that  which  now 
we  can  not  understand. 

While  we  are  saying  these  things,  one  sad 
household  with  its  bereaved  mother,  its  younger 


INTRODUCTION.  7 

sister  and  brothers,  its  circle  of  friends  and  kin- 
dred, rises  before  us.  A  first-born  son  has  been 
taken  from  its  number,  and  nothing  now  remains 
to  it  but  "  the  silent  picture  on  the  wall,"  the 
garments,  the  books,  and  the  letters  which  so 
faithfully  and  so  continually  revealed  his  affec- 
tionate love  and  care  for  all  that  belonged  to 
home  and  its  cherished  inmates,  showing  that 
he  was  the  one  who  brought  sunshine  and  hap- 
piness to  it  and  was  as  a  tower  of  strength  to  her 
who  bore  him. 

This  was  DANIEL  PERKINS  DEWEY,  of  Hartford, 
Connecticut,  whose  remains,  within  the  past  few 
months,  have  been  restored  to  his  family,  after 
lying  for  months  near  the  battle-field  where  he 
fell.  He  was  a  young  man  of  so  much  promise, 
known  and  beloved  by  so  large  a  circle  of  rela- 
tions and  friends,  so  honored  by  his  companions 
in  school,  in  college,  and  in  the  army,  that  his 
death  has  called  forth  from  the  voice  and  from 
the  pen  of  military  superiors,  and  from  compan- 
ions and  friends,  a  general  tribute  of  praise  to 
his  character,  and  of  sorrow  at  his  early  removal 
from  us.  These  testimonials  are  now  gath- 
ered up,  and,  with  other  remembrances  of  a  life 
that  was  indeed  like  the  flower  that  cometh  up 
and  is  cut  down  in  the  very  opening  of  its  beauty, 
are  here  presented  to  those  who  mourn  its 
short  existence  as  a  consolation  to  their  sorrow. 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

We  would  also  claim  the  attention  of  the  young 
to  this  brief  memorial,  hoping  that  they  may 
profit  by  the  bright  and  noble  example  which  it 
places  before  them. 


MEMORIAL. 


DANIEL  PEEKINS  DEWEY,  eldest  sou  of  Daniel 
S.  and  Elizabeth  Perkins  Dewey,  was  born  at 
Hartford,  Connecticut,  June  18th,  1843.  He  was 
baptized  in  his  infancy,  by  the  Rev.  George  Bur- 
gess, the  present  bishop  of  Maine,  and  con- 
firmed by  Bishop  Clarke,  of  Rhode  Island,  when 
he  was  eighteen  years  old.  As  a  child  he 
was  docile  and  obedient,  quick  4n  his  percep- 
tions of  right  and  wrong,  and  of  great  facility 
even  then,  in  acquiring  knowledge ;  of  a  sensi- 
tive and  delicate  nature,  he  preferred  the  quiet 
corner  with  his  book,  or  to  interest  himself  at 
home  with  his  younger  brother,  rather  than  to 
mingle  in  the  usual  out-door  amusements  of 
"boys  of  his  own  age.  "  Yet,"  says  his  mother, 
"  he  was  no  coward ;  for  while  he  would  turn 
silently  away  from  children  who  sought  to  draw 
him  into  a  quarrel,  he  often  avenged  the  insults 
offered  those  who  were  weaker  or  smaller  than 
their  oppressors.  He  was  a  boy  who  spoke  the 
truth  and  held  all  sacred  things  in  reverence, 
evincing  in  the  religious  duties  and  observances 
which  are  required  of  children,  a  reverent  com- 
posure of  mind  which  might  well  belong  to  ma- 


10  A  MEMORIAL  OF 

turer  years.  There  is  but  one  voice  from  those 
who  had  the  care  of  his  education — from  the 
milder  sway  of  female  authority  to  the  discipline 
of  high  school  and  college — concerning  his  dispo- 
sition, his  facility  in  acquiring  knowledge,  and 
his  exemplary  demeanor." 

"  I  remember  him,"  says  his  teacher,  Mr.  Har- 
ris, principal  of  the  South  District  School,  "  when 
a  lad  of  twelve  years,  as  he  entered  his  class 
with  similar  attainments  to  those  associated  with 
him ;  a  few  terms  pass  by  and  I  find  him  leading 
his  class,  exhibiting  signs  of  a  deep  and  clear 
thinker ;  the  reason  why,  must  always  be  given 
to  the  truth  of  any  statement. 

Doubtless  his  classmates  will  remember  his 
clear  explanations  of  difficult  questions,  and 
when  doubt  was  expressed,  how  ready  was  he 
with  page  and  section  to  prove  his  position. 

When  placed  in  trying  positions  he  was  equal 
to  his  task,  always  sustaining  the  right  and  put- 
ting down  the  wrong — always  thoughtful  and 
reliable  as  a  pupil.  He  passed  through  success- 
ive terms,  sustaining  himself  in  the  first  rank  in 
scholarship  and  deportment.  When  he  left  for  the 
high  school  he  was  amongst  the  first  in  his  class." 

"  And,"  adds  Mr.  Harris,  "  my  young  friend 
who  sacrificed  the  pleasures  of  home,  society, 
friends,  and  loved  pursuits  to  serve  his  country, 
defend  its  flag,  its  honor,  its  institutions,  and  to 


DANIEL  PERKINS   DEWEY.  11 

give  up  his  life,  if  need  be,  to  perpetuate  the  privi- 
leges, which  we  now  enjoy,  to  future  generations, 
will  be  remembered  by  his  companions  in  arms, 
who  fought  by  his  side  when  he  fell  a  brave  de- 
fender of  those  principles  which  have  made  us  a 
free,  happy  and  prosperous  nation." 

After  a  few  years  with  this  estimable  teacher, 
he  was  received  into  the  High  School  in  Hart- 
ford. And  to  the  high  position  in  scholarship 
and  in  character  to  which  he  attained  in  that 
institution  we  give  the  unqualified  and  eloquent 
testimonial  of  the  principal,  Mr.  T.  W.  T.  Cur- 
tis, from  a  communication  addressed  to  the 
mother  of  young  Dewey. 

"  Immediately  after  joining  the  school  he  took 
high  rank  as  a  scholar.  This  was  the  result  in 
part  of  superior  natural  gifts,  in  part  of  earnest 
application.  He  possessed  a  vigorous,  logical, 
easy-working  mind.  To  think  was  for  him  not 
a  labor,  but  a  luxury.  He  rejoiced  in  whatever 
was  athletic,  whether  involving  mental  or  phys- 
ical effort.  His  associates  and  his  duties  sup- 
plied the  stimulus  suited  to  an  aspiring  nature 
conscious  of  power  to  rise  to  high  attainment  in 
whatever  is  noble  and  worthy. 

His  spirit  as  a  student  was  calm,  patient,  and 
determined.  He  never  surrendered.  He  was 
not  demonstrative.  He  made  no  parade  of  his 
purposes,  but  quietly  addressed  himself  to  them 


•  12  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

with  an  earnestness  of  resolution,  a  pertinacity 
of  spirit  and  an  intelligence  of  method,  which 
uniformly  achieved  success. 

Perhaps  his  most  prominent  trait  as  a  student 
was  thoroughness.  He  was  ill  at  ease  till  the 
whole  of  a  subject  was  perfectly  understood. 

In  his  intercourse  with  his  school-mates  he 
was  social  and  cordial,  always  happy  to  oblige 
others,  and  relishing  with  zest  all  manly  sports, 
while  his  self-respect  and  native  dignity  of  char- 
acter refused  to  find  gratification  in  whatever 
was  low,  puerile,  or  simply  mischievous. 

To  his  teachers  he  was  always  courteous  and 
deferential,  though  never  obsequious  or  court- 
ing their  favor.  On  the  other  hand,  I  am  sure 
that  all  his  teachers,  from  the  beginning  to  the 
close  of  their  connection  with  him,  respected 
and  loved  him.  For  myself  I  can  say  that  I  am 
able  to  recall  nothing  in  all  his  career  that  I 
would  wish  had  been  different. 

The  personal  qualities  which  I  think  he  most 
commonly  impressed  others  as  possessing,  were  a 
genuine  manliness,  nobleness,  truthfulness,  hon- 
or, fidelity  and  courage,  both  physical  and  moral. 

His  character  as  a  Christian  was  of  the  best 
type.  There  was  nothing  in  it  that  was  spas- 
modic or  excitable.  His  religious  life  was  calm 
and  deep,  yet  daily  manifest  to  all. 

He  was    earnest,   devoted    and    influential. 


DANIEL    PERKINS    DEWEY.  13 

There  are  many  who  cherish  his  memory  with 
affection,  who  remember  his  words  of  private 
counsel  and  his  active  interest  in  the  weekly 
prayer-meeting  of  the  school. 

I  can  not  forbear  to  mention  an  incident,  tri- 
fling perhaps,  yet  significant,  as  illustrating  the 
consistency  of  his  Christian  character  and  his 
courage. 

During  a  summer  vacation  in  the  Adiron- 
dacks,  he  unexpectedly  joined  my  camp,  together 
with  a  companion.  There  were  several  rough 
back-woodsmen,  hunters,  and  guides,  attached 
to  our  party.  The  first  time  I  had  occasion  to 
notice  his  personal  habit,  he  had  returned  from 
a  late  evening  hunt.  As  he  took  his  place  for 
the  night  amidst  that  group  of  rude  men,  he  did 
not  forget  his  mother's  God,  but  quietly  and  de- 
liberately, as  in  his  own  room  at  home,  addressed 
himself  in  prayer  to  that  good  Being  who  loves 
to  meet  his  children  in  the  wilderness  as  well  as 
at  the  fire-side  altar.  I  can  not  soon  forget  that 
picture. 

Such,  in  meagre  outline,  was  one  known,  hon- 
ored and  beloved  by  the  best  young  men  in  his 
native  city. 

It  is  not  strange  that  so  generous,  so  noble  a 

nature  understood  and  heeded  the  wailing  cry 

of  his  suffering  country.     And  thus  another 

young  life,  so  rich  in  gifts  and  full  of  promise 

2 


14  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

was  cheerfully  offered  to  his  God  and  accepted 
in  consecration  to  that  cause  already  made 
sacred  by  the  sacrificial  blood  of  America's 
noblest  sons." 

To  the  incident  mentioned  by  Mr.  Curtis, 
we  may  add  one  of  a  like  character  to  show 
that  the  same  earnest,  childlike  faith  remained 
unaltered  as  the  years  of  this  pure-minded, 
thoughtful  boy  were  ripening  into  manhood ; 
and,  besides,  to  show  to  all  faithful  mothers 
the  ineffaceable  impression  which  their  lessons 
given  in  early  childhood,  may  make  upon  the 
hearts  of  their  children.  After  his  enlistment, 
while  in  camp  at  Hartford,  as  his  mother  was 
leaving  him,  after  a  visit  to  his  tent,  he  asked 
her  if  she  remembered  a  hymn  she  had  taught 
him  beginning  "  Jesus,  tender  Shepherd,  hear 
me" — and  said,  "  I  always  repeat  it  every  night, 
that,  and  "  Now  I  lay  me." 

Is  there  a  person,  we  might  almost  say  in  all 
Christendom,  who  does  not  know  that  simple 
prayer — 

"  Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  keep, 

If  I  should  die  before  I  wake 

I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  take." 

the  first  one  almost  that  is  taught  to  lisping 

infancy,  and  the  one  which  is  never  forgotten  ? 

And    many    a    hoary  head    is  nightly   laid 


DANIEL  PERKINS  DEWEY.          15 

down  under  its  blessing,  while  for  a  moment 
perhaps,  a  mother's  voice  comes  back  again, 
through  the  long,  long  years  that  have  passed 
away,  and  the  man  of  might  is  a  little  child 
again  before  his  Maker — and  well  he  may  be, 
for  when  he  lays  him  down  to  unconscious 
sleep,  where  is  all  the  power  and  the  wisdom 
and  the  superiority  which  raise  him  above  the 
condition  of  the  little  defenceless  child  ? 

The  hymn  too,  is  of  the  same  character  and 
is  too  beautiful  in  its  confiding  faith  and  sim- 
plicity to  be  omitted. 

"  Jesus,  tender  Shepherd,  hear  me, 

Bless  thy  little  lamb  to-night ; 
Through  the  darkness  be  thou  near  me, 

Watch  my  sleep  till  morning  light. 

All  this  day  thy  hand  hath  led  me, 

And  I  thank  thee  for  thy  care, 
Thou  hast  watched  me,  warmed  me,  fed  me, 

Listen  to  my  evening  prayer. 

Let  my  sins  be  all  forgiven, 

Bless  the  friends  I  love  so  well, 
Take  me  when  I  die  to  Heaven, 

Happy  there  with  Thee  to  dwell." 

This  hymn,  so  simple  and  confiding  in  its 
tone,  may  seem  to  some  minds  almost  puerile 
when  repeated  as  a  prayer  with  which  a  man 
and  a  soldier  commends  himself  into  the  keep- 


16  A  MEMORIAL   OF 

ing  of  the  great  Lord  of  all,  but  in  another 
aspect  it  reveals  a  soul  of  true  greatness.  The 
higher  a  man  rises  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
majesty  of  God,  the  deeper  will  be  his  humility 
before  him.  Our  Saviour  addressed  his  disci- 
ples as  "  little  children,"  yet  they  were  hardy 
men  inured  to  a  life  of  toil  and  danger — and 
to  those  who  humble  themselves  as  little  chil- 
dren, is  the  promise  given  of  being  "  the  great- 
est in  the  kingdom  of  Heaven." 

While  young  Dewey  was  in  the  High  School, 
under  the  supervision  of  Mr.  Curtis,  it  became 
his  task  to  compose  one  of  the  exercises  for  a 
public  exhibition,  and  being  in  doubt  as  to  the 
choice  of  a  subject  he  took  a  dictionary,  say- 
ing to  his  mother,  "  I  will  shut  my  eyes  and 
put  my  finger  upon  a  word  and  take  that  for 
my  subject."  The  word  thus  indicated  was  frank- 
incense, and  to  show  the  sober-minded  thought, 
and  the  great  beauty  of  illustration  with  which 
a  school  boy  could  investigate  and  present  a 
subject  freshly  brought  to  his  own  mind,  we 
give  the  whole  composition. 

"FRANKINCENSE. 

An  apparently  barren  subject.  What  can  be  said 
of  a  '  dry  resinous  substance,'  as  Webster  describes 
it.  *  Well,  let  us  look  at  it  before  we  so  hastily  pass 
judgment  upon  it.  '  A  dry  resinous  substance  of  a 


DANIEL    PERKINS    DEWEY.  17 

pale  yellow  color.'  Truly  its  appearance  is  rather 
uninteresting.  It  presents  nothing  interesting  to  the 
sight  or  to  the  touch ;  it  is  harsh  and  bitter  to  the 
taste ;  it  does  not  attract  the  other  senses  ;  yet  shall 
we  therefore  discard  it  as  unworthy  of  our  notice  ? 
Firmly  convinced,  as  I  am,  that  there  is  nothing  in 
existence  however  insignificant,  which  will  not  repay 
a  careful  examination,  I  am  not  satisfied  to  leave  it 
thus.  We  must  look  beyond  its  mere  outward  appear- 
ance and  aspect,  for  by  these  we  are  often  misled. 
Who  would  imagine  that  the  lowly  arbutus  possessed 
such  an  exquisite  fragrance  as  that  with  which  it 
greets  the  close  examiner?  The  appearance  of  one 
of  the  most  delicious  dishes  upon  the  epicure's  table 
would  never  indicate  that  its  component  parts  once 
graced  the  body  of  a  huge  green  frog.  No  one  would 
imagine  from  the  mere  sight  of  Plymouth  rock  that 
it  is  of  any  more  consequence  than  the  pavement 
which  we  tread  in  our  daily  walks.  Pearls  dwell  in 
oysters.  The  most  beautiful  flower  is  contained  within 
the  rough  coat  of  a  seed ;  the  apparently  light  and 
powerless  cloud  of  steam  contains  the  mightiest  prin- 
ciple of  locomotion  with  which  we  are  acquainted. 
And  can  we  not  search  out  in  our  subject  some  hidden 
qualification  to  attract  our  attention  ?  Let  us  see. 
Why  did  the  follower  of  Mohammed  look  with  so 
much  reverence  and  respect  upon  his  holy  city,  Mecca  ? 
Why  does  the  American  feel  such  enthusiasm  at  the 
sight  of  his  country's  flag  in  a  foreign  land  ?  Why 
does  each  one  of  us  regard  with  such  peculiar  feelings 
some  particular  spot,  some  trifling  article  in  our  pos- 
2* 


18  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

session,  some  one  passage  in  the  book  of  our  lives  ? 
It  is  because  of  the  associations  connected  with  it,  be- 
cause of  the  feelings  it  arouses  within  us.  Mecca  was 
the  city  of  the  Mohammedan's  prophet.  He  is  taught 
from  his  infancy  to  reverence  it  because  it  was  once 
the  home  of  the  founder  of  his  faith.  The  American 
rejoices  at  the  sight  of  the  '  stars  and  stripes,'  for  it 
tells  him  of  home  and  of  his  native  country.  He  hails 
it  as  a  mark  of  his  nation's  glory  and  the  ensign  of 
his  own  freedom.  And  so  we  call  to  mind,  as  we  visit 
a  certain  locality,  the  occurrence  which  here  took 
place.  We  remember  the  occasion  marked  by  some 
trifling  memento.  And  the  return  of  some  particular 
day  brings  with  it  the  recollection  pleasing  or  sad  of 
what  on  this  day  took  place  long  before. 

But  what  associations  cluster  around  this  yellow 
gum  ?  What  thought  does  it  bring  to  our  mind  as  we 
gaze  upon  its  unpromising  exterior  ?  Place  a  piece 
of  it  in  the  hand  of  the  next  person  you  may  see,  and 
ask  him  to  tell  you  what  he  can  about  it.  Perhaps 
this  person  may  be  a  lover  of  history,  and  should  it 
be  the  case  his  discourse  might  take  somewhat  the 
form  of  the  following : — More  than  three  thousand 
years  ago,  a  great  nation,  the  Children  of  Israel,  jour- 
neyed through  the  wilderness  to  Mount  Sinai,  and  then 
and  there  they  received  from  God  through  their 
prophet,  His  commands  as  to  the  method  in  which  they 
should  perform  the  service  of  His  house.  There  they 
received  all  their  grand  old  ceremonial  forms  and  usa- 
ges which  marked  them  as  a  peculiar  people,  and  so 
clearly  distinguished  them  from  the  Gentile  nations 


DANIEL   PERKINS    DEWEY.  19 

about  them.  And  one  of  the  prominent  particulars 
of  this  service  was  the  burning  continually  upon  the 
golden  altar  this  substance,  frankincense — and  for  fif- 
teen hundred  years  its  fragrant  clouds  rose  perpetually 
towards  Heaven,  filling  those  sacred  courts  with  em- 
blematic prayer  and  praise,  and  bearing  upward  the 
fervent  petitions  of  kneeling  multitudes,  teaching  both 
Pharisee  and  Publican  that  so  his  heart  should  ascend 
in  all  faith  and  sincerity  to  his  Almighty  Creator  and 
Protector ;  that  so  his  own  good  deeds  should  rise  as 
a  perpetual  incense  before  his  God.  But  at  the  end 
of  this  time  a  new  light  broke  upon  the  world,  and  the 
Messiah  came.  He  instituted  the  reality  in  the  place 
of  the  emblem  in  the  service  of  His  Church.  But  the 
Jews  were  too  strongly  attached  to  their  ceremonial 
law  and  they  resisted  its  abolition,  and  how  they  re- 
sisted we  all  know.  They  slew  their  king,  and  in  a 
few  short  years  the  Roman  legions,  under  Vespasiam, 
were  thronging  the  streets  of  the  holy  city — their 
beautiful  temple  was  destroyed  by  the  sacrilegious 
hands  of  pagan  soldiers.  And  there  the  ceremonial 
law  virtually  perished,  and  from  thenceforth  the  Jews 
were  a  scattered  people,  their  religion  was^without  a 
home.  But  the  burning  of  incense  was  again  revived 
in  the  Christian  Church,  and  at  this  present  day  its 
fragrant  perfume  rises  from  a  thousand  censers  swung 
by  the  priests  of  Rome  throughout  all  the  world. 
From  all  the  magnificent  cathedrals  of  Europe,  from 
the  less  pretending  churches  of  our  own  land,  from 
the  simple  edifice  of  the  Roman  mission  in  the  far  off 


20  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

wilds,  such  symbolic  prayer  and  praise  is  continually 
taking  its  way  skyward — Heavenward  we  will  not  say. 

These,  perhaps,  might  be  the  words  of  the  histo- 
rian upon  this  subject,  and  as  they  fall  upon  our  own 
ears  they  would  naturally  arouse  ideas  in  us  were  we 
the"  champion  of  any  religious  dogma,  or  inclined  to 
discuss  different  beliefs ;  we  might  enter  upon  long  dis- 
quisitions upon  the  doctrines  and  usages  of  the  Jew- 
ish Church,  we  might  enlarge  upon  the  merits  or 
demerits  of  Romanism,  or  taking  the  duties  of  th<j 
moralist,  we  might  draw  many  useful  and  instructive 
lessons  from  this  short  sketch.  Were  we  architects, 
or  sculptors,  or  artists,  the  very  mention  of  the  splen- 
did buildings  of  Europe  would  be  sufficient  to  rouse 
all  our  attention  and  call  forth  all  our  knowledge  and 
feelings  upon  our  favorite  theme.  The  scholar  easily 
discovers  in  the  subject  much  for  future  inquiry.  The 
poet  will  always  find  a  theme  congenial  to  his  nature 
in  that  which  to  others  seems  very  barren.  But  all 
these  have  little  to  do  with  our  subject.  So  we  must 
take  only  those  ideas  which  have  a  nearer  relation 
to  it. 

We  find  that  wherever  it  has  been  in  use  in  all  reli- 
gious services,  that  its  good  qualities  have  been  devel- 
oped by  the  touch  of  fire,  that  in  its  natural  state  its 
odor  is  not  remarkably  agreeable  or  pungent,  but  when 
exposed  to  the  action  of  fire,  it  takes  a  new  form,  en- 
tirely changed  and  made  suitable  for  the  service  to 
which  it  is  applied.  Fire  works  the  important  altera- 
tion. And  so  it  is  with  mankind  in  the  course  of  life. 
Men  are  like  frankincense,  for  they  need  the  all-pow- 


DANIEL    PERKINS    DEWEY.  21 

erful  touch  of  ftre  to  bring  out  the  salient  point  in 
their  character  and  to  form  the  noble  elements  of  their 
character  into  a  harmonious  structure  of  real  great- 
ness. The  hot  fire  of  raging  disease  develops  in  us 
all  our  patient  endurance  and  subdues  the  fierce  pas- 
sions of  our  nature.  Our  fortitude  and  calmness  are 
best  declared  by  our  conduct  when  suffering  from  the 
racking  torture  of  intense  bodily  pain.  The  fire  of 
terrible  affliction  brings  into  action  all  our  submission 
and  faith.  And  what  is  more  noble,  more  manly,  what 
better  evinces  all  our  firmness  of  character  and  self 
restraint  than  the  curbing  in  the  human  heart  the 
fierce  fire  of  angry  passions  ?  Were  it  not  for  the 
trying  fire  our  most  noble  characteristics  would  never 
be  developed.  Where  do  we  find  the  finest  character  ? 
From  whence  come  all  the  old  martyrs  and  heroes  and 
reformers  ?  What  developed  the  energy  and  resolution 
of  their  spirits  ?  It  was  the  fire  of  persecution  and 
opposition.  What  has  roused  the  greatest  champions 
of  freedom,  both  political  and  religious  ?  The  fiery 
oppression  of  an  overbearing  tyranny.  And  so  the 
noble  and  manly  in  our  nature,  like  the  qualities  of 
frankincense,  are  brought  out  by  the  magic  action  of 
fire,  and  were  it  not  for  this  subtle  element  many  great 
characters  would  never  have  illuminated  this  earth  by 
their  brilliant  examples.  But  unlike  frankincense  in 
one  respect  the  fire  of  trial  and  necessity  and  afflic- 
tion and  persecution,  does  not  destroy,  it  only  purifies 
and  venders  more  vivid  and  brilliant  the  simple  gold 
of  nature  on  which  it  takes  its  effect. 

With  the  abolishment  of  the  ceremonial  law  of  the 


22  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

Jewish  Church  the  emblematic  worship  before  that 
time  in  full  force  was  ended,  and.  in  its  place  the 
reality  was  substituted.  One  last  great  offering  fin- 
ished the  sacrificial  form.  The  burning  of  incense 
upon  the  altar  was  supplanted  by  the  real,  fervent 
prayers  of  pious  worshippers  and  by  the  voluntary, 
spontaneous  praise  of  the  pure  heart  and  of  all  the 
world,  animate  and  inanimate.  Would  you  see  some 
of  the  frankincense  of  nature  that  rises  continually 
from  our  beautiful  Earth  ?  You  have  only  to  walk 
abroad  at  any  time  and  you  may  see  it  in  all  its  beauty 
if  your  heart  is  not  entirely  bound  down  by  the  worldly 
ties  of  a  too  active  life.  The  innumerable  host  of 
created  beings  are  continually  sending  upward  their 
offerings  of  frankincense.  We  find  it  in  the  majestic 
roar  of  the  king  of  beasts,  in  the  sweet  notes  of  the 
singing  birds,  in  the  tiny  hum  of  the  smallest  insect, 
the  roar  of  the  mountain  cataract,  and  the  musical  fall 
of  the  mountain  cascade,  the  terrible  peal  of  the  thun- 
der, and  the  resistless  rush  of  the  tempest.  The  silent 
surface  of  the  placid  lake  breathes  out  quietly  this  in- 
cense to  Him  above.  Swift  fishes,  rejoicing  in  their 
activity  beneath  its  waters,  add  to  its  volume.  All 
vegetation,  every  majestic  tree,  the  dark  cypress  and 
laurel,  the  luxuriant  jungles  of  the  tropics,  the  many- 
colored  autumn  woods  of  New  England,  the  nodding 
daisies  of  the  field,  the  brilliant  gems  of  the  morass, 
the  delicate  blossoms  of  the  deep  woods,  all  join  in 
sending  to  Heaven  the  frankincense  of  praise.  Paint- 
ing, science,  literature,  music,  all  the  liberal  arts  in 
their  abstract  purity,  are  among  the  throng  of  offerers. 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  2d 

And  the  human  heart,  and  still  more  the  soul,  in  their 
first,  pure  existence,  lead  the  rest  of  creation  in  the 
service.  And  what  a  mighty  cloud  is  formed  by  the 
unison  and  blending  of  all  these  elements  into  one 
great  offering  of  incense  to  the  Maker  and  Creator  of 
all  things ! " 

From  the  correspondence  of  Perkins  while  at 
school  and  college,  with  his  most  intimate  friend 
Clarence  King,  some  extracts  have  been  kindly 
furnished  by  the  mother  of  the  latter.  She  says, 
"  I  have  selected  several  passages  which  mark 
his  devout  spirit  toward  God  and  his  constant 
looking  toward  that  blessed  life  upon  which 
he  has  now  entered,  and  others,  which  show 
his  deep  love  of  nature  and  the  vein  of  jocose- 
ness  which  brightened  the  natural  seriousness 
of  his  mind  and  demeanor" — and  alluding  to 
the  deep  attachment  between  her  son  and  his 
friend,  "to  whom  his  soul  was  knit  as  David  unto 
Jonathan,"  "  they  were  one  in  their  keen  in- 
tellectual zest  for  the  highest  mental  enjoyment, 
and  one  in  their  fervent  desire  to  become  Christ- 
like  in  heart  and  life.  I  never  saw  a  truer  love 
of  nature  than  in  your  son's  heart  and  eye,  for 
he  saw  and  felt.  I  remember  how  he  lifted  his 
eyes  to  the  fine  old  hills  at  Brattleboro  when  he 
was  leaving  us,  and  said,  "  Shall  I  ever  see  so 
much  beauty  again  ?  " 


24  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

"  Only  the  night  before  Clarence  left  me  for 
his  long  western  journey,  during  a  long  night's 
talk,  he  spoke  of  him  as  most  dear  and  valued, 
and  said,  "  If  he  lives  he  will  make  a  great 
man." 

We  copy  these  extracts.  The  first  one  is  a 
boy's  expression  of  friendship  and  hope  and  con- 
stancy ;  so  elevated  and  far  reaching  in  its 
hopes  and  anticipations ! — "  How  very  sweet  it 
is  to  have  this  bond  of  Christian  fellowship  ; 
without  it  our  friendships  would  be  nothing,  lia- 
ble to  be  broken  at  any  moment ;  now  it  forms 
a  link  which  nothing  can  break  here  or  here- 
after. I  pray  most  earnestly  that  this  Christian 
life  and  fire  may  be  kept  brightly  burning,  and 
be  the  motive  power  of  all  our  future  lives." 

"  I  have  just  been  reading  an  account  of  the 
terrible  accident  at  Lawrence,  and  it  has  filled 
me  with  thankfulness  for  the  mercies  of  our 
Father,  who  has  kept  me  from  all  harm  through 
our  many  adventures,  and  surely  some  of  them 
were  full  of  peril.  Life  is  very  uncertain.  I 
hope  I  may  be  ready  to  go  at  any  moment." 

"  He  was  '  ready.' ' 

"  To  morrow  is  Easter  Sunday.  I  shall  think 
of  you  often,  and  you  will,  I  know,  remember 
me.  When  we  celebrate  the  resurrection  of  the 
Redeemer  we  can  rejoice  that  he  is  ours,  and 
that  wherever  we  are  nothing  can  deprive  us  of 


DANIEL    PERKINS    DEWEY.  25 

his  love  nor  of  the  sure  hope  of  everlasting  life 
through  His  blood.  May  God  keep  us  true  to 
Him  and  '  unspotted  from  the  world,'  and  then 
after  this  brief  fight  of  life  we  shall  forever  be 
at  rest ! '  " 

"  0,  my  brother,  what  longings  to  be  always 
with  you  were  awakened  by  our  brief  meeting 
last  week  !  We  will  not  always  be  parted  ;  we 
are  going  somewhere  beyond  the  regions  of  this 
earth,  for  we  are  not  altogether  '  of  the  earth, 
earthy.'  Pray  for  me  always  even  if  we  should 
be  so  far  separated  as  to  be  wholly  out  of  the 
reach  of  communication.  I  mean,  of  course,  in 
body,  for  we  can  never  be  separated  in  spirit. 
That  is  a  glorious  thought.  Though  our  bodies 
may  be  lying  in  their  last  resting  places,  our 
souls  may  always  meet  each  other,  and  finally 
meet  to  part  no  more." 

"  Sunday  evening  is  so  different  now.  No, 
C and  J to  meet  and  walk  with,  watch- 
ing the  fine  sun-sets  and  cloud-pictures.  How 
often  have  we  walked  up  and  down  Washington 
street,  and  talked  as  boys  seldom  do.  Truly  we 
have  had  a  strangely  happy  boyhood  together.  I 
hope  the  cares  of  life  may  never  take  from  us 
the  feelings  we  now  have,  but  that  we  may  be 
an  example  of  brotherly  Christian  love  amongst 
men" 

"  To-night  I  shall  go  out  and  walk,  though  it 
3 


26  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

rains  and  howls.     It  will  quiet  me,  for  I  love  a 
storm, — it  lifts  me  above  common  thought." 

Was  this  feeling  in  unison  with  that  of  the 
poet  Keble  when  he  heard  in  the  tempest  and 
the  whirlwind,  voices  proclaiming  the  power  and 
the  love  of  God  ? 

"  They  know  the  Almighty's  power, 

Who,  waken'd  by  the  rushing  midnight  shower, 

Watch  for  the  fitful  breeze 

To  howl  and  chafe  amid  the  bending  trees, — 

Watch-for  the  still,  white  gleam  *" 

To  bathe  the  landscape  in  a  fiery  stream, 

Touching  the  tremulous  eye  with  sense  of  light 

Too  rapid  and  too  pure  for  all  but  angel's  sight. 

"  They  know  the  Almighty's  love, 
Who,  when  the  whirlwinds  rock  the  topmost  grove, 
Stand  in  the  shade,  and  hear 
The  tumult,  with  a  deep,  exulting  fear ; 
How  in  their  fiercest  sway, 
Curb'd  by  some  power  unseen,  they  die  away, 
Like  a  bold  steed  that  owns  his  rider's  arm, 
Proud  to  be  check'd  and  sooth'd  by  that  o'ermaster- 
ing  charm." 

"  My  dear  old  mathematics  I  give  up  witli  a 
real  regret ;  mathematics  first  brought  you  and 
me  together,  old  fellow ;  is  not  there  poetry  in 
that?" 

"  It  does  not  seem  right  to  go  fishing  without 
you  and  Z .  It  is  not  pleasant  to  see  some 


DANIEL    PERKINS   DEWEY.  27 

one  else  fishing  in  a  hole  against  which  I  knew 
you  had  a  grudge.  But  we'll  try  it  together 
yet,  and  many  times  I  hope.  Maine  and  New 
Brunswick  loom  up  in  my  imagination,  backed 
by  recommendations  of  the  immortal  F.  F. 
Just  think  of  catching  a  salmon !  wouldn't  it 
be  glorious.  "Nil  desperandum," — we'll  go 
there." 

"  The  road  to  Manchester  was  the  same  as 
ever,  but  without  all  those  beautiful  wild  flow- 
ers which  bloom  along  its  sides.  Our  pretty  lit- 
tle violets  were  just  beginning  to  look  green, 
but  the  hill  where  the  lupines  grew  was  brown 
and  bare.  The  Hockanum  was  black  and  still 
as  ever.  It  always  reminds  me  of  the  ancient 
Styx,  or  of  the  last  river  we  shall  cross.  It  is 
so  dark  and  solitary.  That  fine  little  hill  where 
our  camp  stood  has  been  cleared,  but  the  old 
maple  at  the  brookside  is  there  in  all  its  single- 
ness, and  as  I  passed  under  its  thick  branches, 
I  thought  of  all  our  pasts  held  in  its  shadow, 
feasts  of  trout  and  chocolate,  and  how  we  used 
to  lie  there  and  discuss  our  plans.  It  all  seems 
like  a  dream  now.  But  there  was  a  very  strange 
reality  in  yesterday's  experience,  for  all  day 
there  raged  a  fierce  March  wind,  colder  than  a 
patent  freezer  and  keener  than  Attic  salt !  Both 
of  us  were  lightly, clad,  and  it  was  very  inter- 
esting, to  say  the  least.  At  various  points  in 


28  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

the  proceedings  B ,  who  did  not  see  the  fun 

of  it  at  all,  would  whang  down  his  rod  and  per- 
form the  latest  figures  of  the  Feejee  war  dance, 
with  appropriate  cries  and  gestures." 

"  College  is  all  in  a  military  furor  just  now. 
A  company  is  being  organized,  and  everybody 
expects  to  join.  I  suppose  we  are  to  go  South 
and  fight  for  State  rights.  I  have  become  a  reg- 
ular fire-eater,  and  practice  swallowing  a  few 
coals  before  breakfast  every  morning,  just  to 
keep  in  trim." 

"  I  am  getting  more  and  more  anxious  to  go 
to  the  war.  I  am  convinced  that  this  trouble  is 
no  transient  outbreak  to  be  quelled  in  a  few 
months,  but  that  it  is  a  great  struggle  to  test 
the  power  of  our  government  and  purge  us  from 
our  national  sins.  I  am  thoroughly  convinced 
that  it  is  my  duty  to  be  amongst  the  defenders 
of  our  national  principles,  and  would  go  to  the 
war  immediately  but  for  the  pressure  of  other 
duties  which  hold  me  here  for  a  time." 

"  TRINITY,  OCT.  21sT. 
DEAR  BROTHER, — 

It  is  almost  dark,  and  I  am  sitting  here  in 
my  room  and  longing  to  see  you,  0,  ever  so 
much.  I  want  to  tell  you  so  many  things  that 
I  can't  very  well  write, — and  I  want  to  write 


DANIEL    PERKINS   DEWEY.  29 

you  a  Sunday  note  just  as  I  used  to, — but  of 
late  I  have  felt  very  wicked.  I  have  felt  some- 
times almost  like  murmuring  at  God's  dispensa- 
tions ;  I  have  not  had  that  loving  humble  feeling 
toward  my  Saviour,  that  I  should  have — but 
when  I  really  think,  I  still  feel  that  firm  trust 
and  confidence  in  his  merciful  power,  and  look 
forward  to  a  brighter  future  if  not  here,  at  least 
where  we  shall  both  be  for  eternity.  0,  Clare, 
what  would  this  world  be  with  all  its  deceitful 
pleasures,  with  all  its  vanity  and  heartlessness, 
with  all  its  trials  and  troubles  and  anxieties,  if  it 
were  all  we  had  to  look  to.  No,  there  is  another 
world  beyond,  yea  and  above  this  one,  and  every 
thing  there  is  bright  and  pure  and  lovely  and 
peaceful,  and  you  and  I  will,  if  we  '  so  run,'  at 
last  meet  on  its  shining  shore.  The  very  thought 
is  enough  to  reconcile  one  to  any  amount  of 
pain  and  anxiety  now.  Yet  how  often  when 
busy  with  the  affairs  of  the  world  do  we  forget 
all  about  it,  and  fret  and  murmur  at  our  lot. 
My  earnest  prayer  is  that  I  may  have  an  obedi- 
ent, contented,  humble  heart ;  so  bear  my  trials 
that  I  may  be  purified  and  made  better  by  them, 
and  thus  learn  to  enjoy  real  pleasures  more  than 
those  furnished  by  the  world. 

But  it  is  growing  too  dark  to  write.     I  will 
write  you  soon  again.     Try  to  write  at  least 
3* 


30  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

once  a  week.     Remember  me  to  all  the  fellows. 
Good  bye,  and  may  God  bless  you. 
Your  Brother, 

D.  P.  DEWEY." 

Of  the  "trials  and  troubles  and  anxieties" 
which  at  this  time  weighed  down  the  soul  of  this 
noble  minded  boy  it  is  not  necessary  to  speak 
particularly.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  they  were 
of  a  nature  so  painful  and  so  trying  that  the  de- 
termination and  strength  of  manhood,  unsus- 
tained  by  Christian  faith  and  courage,  would 
have  trembled  under  their  weight ;  but  with  what 
faith  and  patience  and  childlike  submission  he 
seeks  to  draw  from  them  the  lesson  they  were 
sent  to  teach,  and  to  be  borne  upward  in  his 
Christian  course  by  his  saddest  experiences  ! 

After  attaining  a  high  standing  in  the  insti- 
tution over  which  Mr.  Curtis  so  successfully 
presided.  Perkins  Dewey:  entered  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Hartford,  and  there  the  same  close  habits 
of  study,  the  same  honorable,  manly,  straight- 
forward endeavor,  the  same  settled,  earnest, 
religious  spirit  marked  this  young  disciple  of 
Christ,  which  had  been  as  "  ornaments  of  grace 
about  his  head  and  as  chains  about  his  neck," 
while  he  gained  one  point  beyond  another  in 
his  onward  progress  ;  and  although  he  was  cut 
down  before  he  had  received  the  honors  which 


DANIEL    PERKINS   DEWEY.  31 

undoubtedly  would  have  been  awarded  him  at 
the  close  of  his  college  course,  yet  the  record 
of  his  faithfulness  is  not  wanting  from  the  high- 
est officer  of  that  institution,  although  it  was 
given  as  he  stood  sorrowfully  by  his  cold  re- 
mains as  they  lay  in  the  house  of  God. 

Professor  Brockelsby,  also,  so  widely  known 
and  respected  as  a  professor  in  Trinity  College, 
adds  his  affectionate  and  honorable  testimony 
to  the  worth  of  this  young  man.  He  writes : — 

"  Young  Dewey  entered  Trinity  College  in 
the  fall  of  I860,  and  from  that  time  till  his  de- 
parture for  the  war,  I  met  him  almost  daily  in 
my  classes.  From  his  entrance  he  stood  among 
the  first  scholars  of  his  class,  and  was  remark- 
able for  his  solid  sense  and  clear  intellect. 
What  were  difficulties  to  others  were  mastered 
by  him  with  ease,  and  it  was  a  pleasure,  in  the 
recitation,  to  hear  his  luminous  exposition  of 
the  subject  before  him. 

But  with  all  his  ability  there  was  no  ambi- 
tious display,  and  he  won  the  love  and  esteem 
of  his  teachers  and  companions  by  his  modest 
and  unassuming  manners.  He  was  firm  in 
principle,  and  seeking  Divine  guidance,  earn 
estly  endeavored  to  do  his  duty,  whatever  dis- 
couragements and  perplexities  beset  his  path. 
A  bright  and  useful  future  seemed  to  be  before 


32  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

him.  It  was  indeed  brilliant,  and  heroic  :  but 
how  brief ! 

Yet  life  is  made  up  not  of  years  but  of  deeds ; 
and  who  can  say  but  that  my  noble  young 
friend  has  not  better  fulfilled  the  purposes  of 
his  existence  than  many  of  us  who  watched  over 
his  youth,  and  wept  above  his  tomb ! 

In  his  death  the  college  mourns  the  loss  of 
one  of  her  brightest  jewels." 

At  the  time  that  young  Dewey  joined  the 
army  he  had  reached  the  beginning  of  his  junior 
year  in  college.  The  year  before,  a  company 
had  been  formed  by  the  students  for  drill  and  ' 
other  military  exercises  ;  of  this  company  he 
was  a  member.  From  the  first  outbreak  of  the 
war  his  thoughts  and  wishes  were  growing  more 
and  more  earnest  to  join  the  army.  During 
his*  summer  vacation,  in  1862,  he  went  with 
some  of  his  young  friends  on  an  excursion 
to  Canada,  at  the  time  that  some  of  our  citi- 
zens had  fled  thither  to  escape  the  draft.  His ' 
little  party  was  apprehended  and  detained  on 
the  way  upon  suspicion  of  going  there  for  the 
same  purpose.  This  circumstance  only  in- 
creased his  desire  to  go  to  the  war,  and  enroll 
himself  at  once  amongst  the  champions  of  order, 
freedom  and  good  government.  But  upon  re- 
flection he  deferred  it  till  he  should  return 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  33 

to  Hartford ;  then  with  a  simple  and  earnest 
appeal  he  asked  the  consent  of  his  mother  to 
join  the  twenty-fifth  regiment,  which  was  at  that 
time  encamped  at  Hartford.  "  Mother,  it  is 
my  duty  ;  don't  refuse  me  ! "  His  whole  heart 
and  soul  seemed  to  be  absorbed  in  this  one 
wish ;  his  determination  was  inflexible,  only 
awaiting  some  sign  of  acquiescence  from  his 
mother,  while  she  stood,  unwilling  to  damp 
the  ardor  of  a  soul  burning  with  patriotism  and 
filled  with  high  resolve  of  duty  and  self-sacri- 
fice and  unable  to  say  the  word  which  gave  her 
noble  son  as  an  offering  to  his  country — that 
son,  upon  whom  even  in  his  youth  her  spirit 
rested  with  so  much  confidence  for  comfort,  for 
assistance,  and  for  counsel,  and  who  gave  her 
such  well-grounded  promise  for  all  her  future 
years — he  turned  from  her,  gathering  her  con- 
sent from  her  unwonted  silence,  and  without 
delay  joined  the  twenty-fifth  regiment  Connec- 
ticut volunteers,  where  he  remained  until  his 
death. 

His  letters  from  the  time  of  his  enlistment 
till  the  fatal  battle  of  Irish  Bend,  will  be  read 
with  interest  by  those  for  whom  this  memorial 
is  intended — the  friends  who  knew  and  appre- 
ciated his  worth  —  the  soldiers  who  were  his 
companions  in  arms  and,  during  the  short  time 
of  their  intercourse  with  him,  had  learned  to 


34  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

love  and  honor  him — for  all  who  would  follow 
one  out  of  the  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands 
who  have  left  a  home  of  comfort  .and  enjoy- 
ment, friends  the  most  beloved,  and  all  the  op- 
portunities of  improvement  in  quiet  study,  in 
refined  society,  in  the  priceless  advantages  of 
religious  instruction,  with  all  other  privileges  of 
the  church  of  Christ,  and  gone  forth  heroically 
and  cheerfully  with  their  lives  in  their  hands, 
to  stand  in  the  face  of  danger  and  of  death,  and 
to  contend  against  a  deadly  enemy  in  the  cause 
of  that  God  whose  throne  is  the  habitation  of 
justice  and  judgment,  and  before  whose  face 
mercy  and  truth  have  their  eternal  dwelling- 
place. 

We  give  the  letters  in  the  order  in  which 
they  were  written,  from  the  time  of  his  first 
encampment  with  his  regiment  in  Hartford, 
until  almost  his  last  weary  night  of  service. 
The  first  was  written  from  the  camp  at  Hart- 
ford, to  his  only  sister  who  was  at  school  in 
New  Haven. 

CAMP  HALLECK,  Sept.  30th,  1863. 

MY  DEAR  FANNIE  : — I  received  your  letter  some 
time  ago,  but  I  have  put  off  answering  it  until  now, 
as  I  have  had  neither  opportunity  nor  the  means  of 
writing.  To-day  I  am  corporal  of  the  guard  over  the 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  35 

drafted  men  or.  rather  over  the  camp  where  the  drafted 
men  ought  to  be,  but  are  not.  They  have  a  camp 
just  south  of  the  22d,  but  for  the  last  week  there  has 
not  been  a  man  in  it.  Nevertheless  a  guard  is  sent 
over  every  morning,  from  the  25th,  to  take  care  of 
them,  but  as  the  tents  are  all  empty  the  guai-d  is  not 
very  strict,  so  that  we  have  an  easy  time.  The  senti- 
nels sit  down  or  stand  up,  smoke,  sing  and  eat,  in  fact, 
do  about  as  they  are  a  mind  to.  This  is  not  so  how- 
ever in  the  other  camp,  there  they  are  very  strict. 
The  guard  is  detailed  every  morning  at  breakfast  time, 
and  goes  on  duty  at  nine  and  remains  on  duty  till  nine 
next  morning.  The  whole  guard  is  divided  into  three 
parts,  called  "  reliefs,"  one  of  which  goes  on  duty 
every  three  hours,  relieving  the  one  before  it,  so  that 
sentinels  are  on  their  beat  two  hours  and  off  four,  but 
they  must  be  at  the  guard  house  that  four  hours,  so 
that  on  the  whole  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  "mount 
guard."  I  have  been  on  twice  before  as  private,  and 
once  as  a  corporal,  so  that  I  know  a  little  about  it.  I 
was  appointed  acting  corporal  Sunday  morning,  but 
can't  tell  whether  I  shall  be  made  a  real  corporal  or 
not.  Guess  I  shall  though,  and  perhaps  higher,  as 
things  look  now. 

Our  regiment  is  nearly  full  and  will  be  sworn  in  and 
equipped  in  a  few  days,  and  soon  after  sent  off.  The 
22d  is  all  ready  and  will  go  off  it  is  said,  day  after 
to-morrow,  (Thursday.)  and  then  we  shall  go  into 
their  tents.  It  is  very  pleasant  and  much  more  com- 
fortable in  barracks,  but  we  don't  have  so  many  visit- 
ors, so  that  it  is  rather  dull.  We  drill  four  hours  every 


36  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

day,  two  in  the  morning  and  two  in  the  afternoon. 
Sometimes  the  heat  is  excessive  and  sometimes  the 
ground  is  wet  and  slippery  and  then  it  is  fun  to  see 
the  men  slide.  Roll  call  at  5.50  in  the  morning, 
breakfast  at  six.  The  officers  drill  from  6^  to  7£, 
guard  mounting  at  8,  drill  from  9^-  till  11^,  dinner  at 
12,  drill  again  at  2,  dress  parade  at  5.30  ;  then  noth- 
ing more  except  supper  till  9,  when  all  the  companies 
fall  in  for  roll  call,  and  at  9^  all  lights  must  be  put 
out  and  the  barracks  quiet.  And  this  is  the  way  we 
live  every  day.  Our  food  is  plain  but  plenty.  We 
have  coffee  or  tea  at  every  meal,  but  no  milk,  gener- 
ally. We  have  beans  or  soup  for  breakfast,  fresh  or 
salt  meat,  or  soup  and  vegetables  for  dinner  ;  at  supper, 
hominy  or  rice  and  occasionally  stewed  apples,  and 
bread  at  all  meals  without  butter.  To-day  we  had 
beef-steak  and  sweet  potatoes,  but  that  is  unusual. 
Mother  keeps  me  well  supplied  with  fruit  and  some- 
times sends  me  little  ni'ce  things  from  home.  Yester- 
day she  made  me  a  present  of  a  fine  silver  watch  to 
take  to  the  war.  So  you  see  that  thus  far  my  soldier- 
life  has  not  been  very  hard.  My  health,  and  in  fact, 
that  of  the  whole  regiment  has  been  very  good,  and 
we  are  all  in  a  hurry  to  go  off.  If  I  can  get  a  fur- 
lough I  shall  visit  New  Haven,  and  come  and  see  you. 
It  is  about  time  to  take  my  men  over  to  supper,  so 
that  I  can  not  write  much  more.  Be  a  "  good  girl," 
and  if  I  do  not  come  back  from  the  war,  as  perhaps  I 
may  not,  be  good  to  mother.  Nothing  will  please  her 
more  than  to  have  you  improve  in  your  studies  and 
character.  Try  to  become  good  as  well  as  accom- 


DANIEL   PERKIN^  DEWEY.  37 

plished,  and  do  not  be  misled  by  any  bad  influences 
about  you.     Write  to  me  soon  and  tell  me  how  you 
are  getting  along,  and  all  about  school.     Good  bye, 
remember  me  to  Julia,  and  all  the  girls. 
Your  loving  brother, 

D.  P.  DEWEY. 

The  regiment  left  their  camp  at  Hartford,  in 
the  early  part  of  November,  and  Perkins  writ- 
ing from  the  next  encampment,  "  Camp  Buck- 
ingham," East  New  York,  under  date  of  No- 
vember 15th,  says  : — 

"  DEAR  MOTHER  : 

"We  had  a  pleasant  trip  to  New  York,  and  the'cap- 
tain  of  the  boat  said  he  never  had  a  more  orderly 
regiment  aboard.  "We  had  to  sleep  on  the  floor,  but 
were  so  tired  that  we  slept  soundly.  We  disem- 
barked at  Williamsport,  where  breakfast  was  served 
out  to  us  through  the  exertions  of  Colonel  Almy,  the 
Connecticut  agent  in  New  York.  Then  we  marched 
out  here,  and  a  pretty  tough  pull  it  was,  but  the  day 
was  pleasant  and  the  air  cool,  and  we  rested  several 
times,  so  that  we  stood  it  pretty  well.  We  have 
been  very  busy  since,  and  I  broke  off  from  work  to 
write  now, — but  there  is  a  gentleman  on  the  ground 
who  offers  to  carry  letters  to  New  York,  and  I  am 
improving  the  opportunity. 

Do  write  to  me  at  once,  for  I  am  beginning  to  be 
homesick  already." 


38  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

TRANSPORT  MARY  BOARDMAN, 
Dec.  3d,  1862. 

DEAR  MOTHER: 

I  received  your  last  letter  yesterday.  It  went  out 
to  Centreville,  and  then  through  the  exertions  of  the 
chaplain,  was  brought  aboard.  I  was  sorry  not  to  see 
you  before  you  left,  but  everything  was  in  such  a  snarl 
that  I  really  did  not  know  what  was  going  to  happen, 
nor  how  to  act  from  one  minute  to  another.  The 
order  came  for  us  to  move  Thursday  night,  as  I  told 
you  in  my  note,  but  Friday  passed,  and  either  it 
was  countermanded  or  something  happened  to  pre- 
vent its  execution.  I  rather  expected  some  one  out 
to  the  camp,  but  no  one  came.  Friday  night  we 
did  not  expect  to  move  until  the  next  week.  How- 
ever, all  was  uncertainty,  and  as  I  saw  A.  C on 

the  ground  early  Saturday  morning  I  asked  him  to 
go  to  Henry's  place  and  beg  you  to  come  out  imme- 
diately, and  if  he  had  done  so,  as  he  did  not,  I  should 
have  seen  you.  We  did  not  leave  till  three  o'clock 
P.  M.  I  watched  for  you  but  you  did  not  come,  and 
I  had  to  console  myself  the  best  way  I  could.  I 
looked  for  you  all  the  way  in,  but  did  not  much  ex- 
pect to  see  you,  as  we  did  not  reach  Brooklyn  till  after 
dark  and  it  was  raining  great  guns,  as  it  did  most  of 
the  way  in.  We  marched  ten  miles  in  three  hours 
and  a  half,  after  drilling  all  the  morning.  We  went 
down  Atlantic  street  to  the  South  Ferry  and  embarked 
on  board  this  boat,  the  Mary  A.  Boardman,  a  small, 
black  screw  propeller.  There  are  about  350  men^ 
one  company  (K)  being  on  board  the  She-Kiang,  a 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  39 

large,  white  side-wheel  steamer,  and  the  rest  of  the 
regiment  (five  companies)  are  on  the  Empire  City, 
another  steamer ;  so  you  see  we  are  pretty  well  di- 
vided up.  Our  vessel,  I  think,  is  the  best  sea-goer. 
She  was  built  for  the  China  trade  and  has  been  to 
Pensacola  and  Newbern  before.  I  think  she  is  safer 
than  any  of  the  others,  although  smaller.  I  would  de- 
scribe to  you,  if  I  could,  our  accommodations,  but  I 
can  not  do  them  justice.  The  cabin  where  we  sleep 
is  too  low  for  a  six-footer  to  stacd  upright  in  except  be- 
tween the  beams  of  the  deck  above.  In  this  space 
there  are  three  tiers  of  bunks  made  of  rough  boards, 
and  each  man  in  consequence  has  less  than  two  feet 
in  height  and  in  width  has  eighteen  inches  ;  in  length, 
four  feet  six  inches — (I  am  fet*r  feet  eight  inches  tall) 
and  in  this  small  space  each  man  is  expected  to  stow 
himself  and  all  his  traps.  Between  the  two  sides 
where  the  bunks  are,  a  double  row  of  rifle  boxes  is 
laid  and  on  these  company  B  sleeps — rather  poor 
beds,  but  they  have  more  room  over  head.  My  bunk 
is  near  the  end,  and  near  a  port  hole  usually  open  and 
once  in. a  while  a  breath  of  pure  air  comes  in,  but  the 
atmosphere  of  the  place  at  night,  with  over  three  hun- 
dred men  sleeping  or  trying  to  sleep  in  it,  is  perfectly 
awful.  The  odors  and  sounds  that  arise  make  it  al- 
most intolerable.  I  could  easily  stand  the  inconven- 
ience of  being  crowded  if  to  it  was  not  added  such  a 
risk  of  health.  I  tremble  to  think  of  the  time  when 
we  are  all  sea-sick.  Habit  has  made  it  endurable, 
even  comfortable  sometimes,  now,  but  I  fear  the  worst 
is  to  come.  The  first  night  aboard,  being  tired  by  the 


40  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

march,  I  slept  well.  That  night,  (Saturday,)  we  lay  out 
in  the  channel,  expecting  to  sail  next  morning.  In  the 
morning  the  captain  came  to  me  knowing  my  skill 
with  an  oar,  and  asked  me  if  I  would  like  to  be  de- 
tailed on  a  boat's  crew  to  pull  between  the  vessel  and 
the  shore,  and  you  will  readily  believe  I  didn't  say  no. 
So  all  day  Sunday  we  lay  in  the  same  place,  and  I 
pulled  back  and  forth  in  a  life-boat,  busy  all  day  long, 
and  it  was  an  inexpressible  relief  from  the  constraint 
and  monotony  of  the  vessel.  Many  gave  me  com- 
missions to  do  on  shore,  and  I  had  some  business 
of  my  own,  and  I  almost  ran  my  legs  off.  That 
night  I  tried  to  sleep  in  my  bunk  again,  but  I  was 
obliged  to  clear  out  and  go  on  deck  till  I  got  chilled 
through,  and  then  came  down  for  another  hour  or 
so,  and  thus  I  spent  the  night.  Monday  came,  but 
no  signs  of  sailing,  and  it  was  spent  by  me  in  the  same 
way  as  Sunday,  and  that  night  I  bunked  out  on  deck 
and  slept  finely.  Yesterday  morning,  (Tuesday,)  I 
rowed  again,  and  in  its  course  I  visited  a  barber,  took 
a  thorough  bath,  had  my  hair  cut  and  all  my  whiskers 
taken  off;  my  face  is  now  as  smooth  as  yours.  At 
noon  we  sailed  and  thought  ourselves  fairly  started, 
but  alas !  we  had  to  haul  to  opposite  Staten  Island, 
owing  to  something  wrong  in  the  order  and  lay  here 
all  night,  to  the  immense  disgust  of  all.  I  slept  on 
deck  again  and  shall  do  so  hereafter.  This  morning 
we  are  expecting  to  sail  every  minute  ;  the  sooner  the 
better.  We  have  been  on  shipboard  four  nights  al- 
ready and  shall  be  two  or  three  more,  but  no  one  is 
anxious  lo  prolong  the  time. 


DANIEL   PERKINS    DEWEY.  41 

I  shall  send  this  letter  back  by  the  pilot ;  as  soon  as 
I  get  anywhere  I  will  write  again  and  give  my  ad- 
dress ;  until  then  you  need  not  send  any  letters,  though 
I  wish  you  would  write  every  day,  if  possible,  and  send 
me  all  in  a  bunch  when  you  do  send. 

Love  to  all,  the  boys,  Aunt  Susan,  Mary  "Jane," 
etc.,  and  be  assured  of  mine  to  you. 
Good  bye, 

D.  P.  DEWEY. 

SUNDAY,  DEC.  ITH,  1862. 
Transport  Mary  A  Boardman. 

DEAR  MOTHER: 

We  have  been  a  week  on  shipboard  and  shall  be 
another,  if  not  more.  Soon  after  I  finished  my  last 
letter  orders  came  aboard  with  directions  for  the  Col. 
to  open  them  after  twenty -four  hours'  sailing  to  the 
south.  At  two  o'clock  the  next  day  they  were  opened, 
found  to  be  orders  to  sail  with  all  speed  to  Ship  Island 
in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, where  the  12th  went.  This  was  a  surprise 
to  all  and  was  hardly  credited  at  first,  but  it  must  be 
so,  for  we  have  been  steaming  away  to  the  south  ever 
since,  and  are  now  somewhere  on  the  lower  coast  of 
Georgia.  We  would  have  been  farther  but  for  a  ter- 
rific old  gale  that  struck  us  near  Hatteras  and  con- 
tinued with  great  violence  for  about  twelve  hours, 
being  at  its  height  about  twelve  o'clock  Friday  night, 
when  nearly  every  wave  washed  over  us  from  stem  to 
stern.  In  the  morning  the  smoke-stack  was  white 
with  a  crust  of  salt  from  the  spray.  Our  little  steamer 
4* 


42  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

stood  it  splendidly.  She  mounted  the  huge  rollers 
like  a  cork,  and  when  we  were  going  down  the  sides 
of  one  the  deck  looked  like  the  roof  of  a  house  only 
much  steeper.  I  tell  you  there  were  some  scared 
aboard.  However,  there  was  no  real  danger  at  any 
time,  and  as  it  was  impossible  to  sleep  on  deck  with 
any  degree  of  comfort,  I  went  below  and  slept  like,  a 
top  till  morning.  Strange  to  say  among  all  the  sea- 
sickness I  have  not  suffered  from  it  at  all  yet,  I  do 
not  think  I  shall ;  but  it  is  the  first  time  though  I  hope 
not  the  last.  I  should  not  dare  to  be  sick  now,  I  have 
laughed  so  much  at  the  others.  It  is  dreadful  lone- 
some here  on  the  ocean,  we've  seen  no  land  since  the 
first  night.  It  is  all  sea  and  sky  with  occasionally  a 
school  of  porpoise  or  a  gull,  or  away  off  in  the  distance 
a  sail.  Vessels  however,  do  not  come  very  near  us. 
Low  black  steamers  are  too  suspicious  in  these  days 
of  privateers  and  blockades  to  invite  close  acquaint- 
ance. But  we  shall  have  to  stop  soon  to  coal,  proba- 
bly at  the  Tortugas,  an  island  at  the  southern  ex- 
tremity of  Florida ;  and  if  we  do  I  shall  try  to  send 
a  letter  home.  If  I  do  you  must  not  say  anything 
about  our  destination,  if  the  information  reaches  you 
before  it  is  made  public.  I  have  written  until  my 
fingers  ache. 

7  A.  M.,  Wednesday,  Dec.,  1862.  We  are  now  ly- 
ing in  front  of  Fort  Jefferson  on  the  dry  Tortugas 
which  we  reached  last  night  about  3  o'clock.  All  has 
been  well  and  pleasant  especially  the  weather  since 
Sunday,  which  is  as  mild  and  pleasant  as  June.  I 


DANIEL   PERKINS    DEWEY.  43 

can  hardly  realize  that  it  is  the  20th  of  December, 
but  so  it  is. 

This  island  where  we  are  lying  is  a  small  one  and 
as  we  look  at  it  from  the  steamer  is  nothing  but  sand, 
with  a  big  fort  around  it.  We  may  have  a  chance  to 
see  the  inside  of  it,  if  we  land,  and  then  I  can  tell  bet- 
ter about  it.  At  present  I  see  no  prospect  of  any 
fruit  or  anything  else  different  from  our  sea  fare.  I 
am  going  to  mail  this  from  here,  although  you  may 
never  get  it,  but  there  is  a  chance  of  it  and  I  shall 
try.  I  know  the  chaplain  will  do  his  best  and  that  is 
a  good  deal.  Love  to  all,  and  lots  to  yourself. 
Your  affectionate  son, 

D. 

SHIP  ISLAND,  DEC.  15TH,  1862. 
DEAR  MOTHER: 

We  arrived  here  this  morning,  after  a  very  pleasant 
trip  of  thirty-six  hours  from  Tortugas.  We  are  now 
lying  just  off  shore,  and  can  not  say  whether  we  shall 
land  or  not.  I  hope  so  by  all  means,  as  we  have  been 
on  this  old  steamer  long  enough  to  be  tired  of  it.  We 
landed  at  Tortugas,  from  which  place  I  mailed  a  letter 
which  you  must  have  received  by  this  time.  We 
spent  about  twelve  hours,  bathing,  lounging  and  look- 
ing about.  It  was  one  of  the  greatest  reliefs  I  ever 
had  to  get  on  shore  again  and  lie  down  on  the  ground. 
Inside  the  fort  it  was  much  pleasanter  than  outside. 
The  trees  and  grass  are  in  full  leaf  and  the  air  is  as 
warm  as  summer,  although  the  soldiers  of  the  garri- 
son said  it  was  the  coldest  day  they  had  had  for 
some  months  and  were  amazed  at  our  idea  of  going 


44  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

into  the  water ;  but  we  went  notwithstanding.  The 
vegetation  was  entirely  different  from  anything  I  have 
ever  seen.  The  ground  was  mostly  composed  of  bare 
sand,  particles  of  coral  and  shells  ;  but  here  and  there 
were  patches  of  long  and  wonderfully  soft  grass' 
There  were  many  tall  cocoanut  palms  with  their  long, 
fan -like  leaves,  and  one  date  palm,  besides  acacia  trees 
and  mangroves ;  everything  was  entirely  tropical. 
The  fort  itself  is  of  brick  and  one  of  the  largest  I  ever 
saw  ;  it  is  nearly  a  mile  in  circumference  and  the 
walls  in  the  thinnest  part  are  nine  feet  thick ;  it  has 
six  sides  with  a  bastion  at  every  corner  on  which  is 
mounted  a  ten  inch  columbiad — one  of  them  is  a 
twelve  incher,  from  which  they  fired  a  salute  when  we 
left.  The  weight  of  it  was  15,145  Ibs.,  and  it  carries 
a  shot  weighing  128  pounds  ;  a  pretty  good  sized  pop- 
gun. Outside  the  fort  is  defended  naturally  by  long 
and  wide  sand-shoals,  over  which  no  vessel  can  ap- 
proach and  the  only  channel  is  so  protected  that  it 
would  be  sure  death  for  anything  to  attempt  it.  On 
these  shoals  are  thousands  of  shells  of  all  kinds  and 
sizes  and  colors,  and  great  quantities  of  beautiful  coral 
and  sea  weed.  I  picked  up  some  of  the  smaller  shells 
to  send  home,  but  I  don't  know  how  I  can  do  it  at 
present. 

After  loading  our  coal  we  had  a  dress  parade  in  the 
fort  and  then  embarked  again  and  set  sail.  This  last 
short  trip  has  been  the  most  pleasant  of  all  the  voy- 
age. We  have  been  sailing  in  the  warm  and  smooth 
waters  of  the  gulf  of  Mexico,  watching  flying  fish  and 
porpoises  and  nautilus  and  sun  fish,  and  all  the  won- 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  45 

ders  of  the  sea.  At  night  in  these  latitudes  the  stars 
are  very  brilliant,  and  in  the  water  are  thousands  of 
phosphorescent  sparks  whenever  there  is  any  com- 
motion, so  that  the  vessel  leaves  a  light  trail  far  be- 
hind it,  and  then  we  have  some  splendid  ''sings"  every 
night  to  while  away  the  time. 

But  I  could  not  say  all  I  wanted  to  about  the  sights 
of  this  new  country  if  I  was  to  write  till  to-morrow — 
so  I  must  leave  the  rest  till  I  can  tell  you  about  it. 
Of  course  in  viva  voce  I  am  well,  but  we  all  have  to 
be  careful  as  the  climate  is  treacherous,  producing  a 
fever  which  is  almost  always  fatal ;  but  it  is  now  the 
most  healthful  season  and  there  is  little  real  danger. 

I  must  adjourn  now  for  dinner. 

Your  affectionate  son,       D. 

*         *         *         * 
DEAR  MOTHER  : 

Of  Ship  Island  we  saw  but  little,  but  I  saw  enough 
to  make  me  glad  we  were  not  going  to  stay  there.  It 
is  a  long,  low  sand-bar ;  the  sand  is  the  finest  I  ever 
saw,  with  no  sign  of  vegetation  except  some  vines 
that  run  along  the  ground,  some  leaves  of  which  I 
enclose.  Perhaps  with  all  your  botanical  knowledge 
you  can  tell  what  it  is.  At  day-break  this  morning 
we  were  off  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  and  all  day 
we  have  been  steaming  up  its  muddy  waters,  following 
close  in  the  wake  of  the  North  Star,  which  leads  the 
way  with  Head-quarters  aboard.  We  are  the  second 
ship  of  the  fleet,  thus  far,  although  there  is  a  big  steamer 
just  behind  doing  her  best  to  get  ahead  of  us,  and  I 
guess  she  will  do  it  as  the  M.  B.  is  rather  a  slow  con- 
cern. We  passed  forts  Jackson  on  one  side  and  St. 


46  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

Phillip  on  the  other,  and  they  fired  a  salute  in  honor 
of  us. 

I  am  terribly  disappointed  in  the  "  Father  of  Wa- 
ters." There  is  very  little  about  it  so  far  that  it  is  ma- 
jestic or  beautiful.  It  is  narrow  and  muddy,  the  banks 
but  for  the  novelty  of  their  vegetation  and  dwellings, 
would  be  very  uninteresting.  We  are  passing  con- 
tinually plantations  of  rice,  sugar  and  cotton,  and 
nearly  every  house  has  an  orange  grove  with  trees  in 
full  bloom  and  fruit.  We  look  with  longing  eyes  upon 
them  but  can  not  get  any.  An  old  negress  in  the 
generosity  of  her  heart  came  out  with  her  arms  full 
and  tried  to  throw  them  aboard,  but  alas  !  they  went 
only  a  few  feet  from  the  shore.  However,  we  will 
soon  get  plenty  of  them,  I  suppose.  I  have  written 
enough  for  such  a  hot  day  and  I  will  wait  till  it  is 
cooler  and  scribble  some  more,  but  for  fear  I  don't,  I 
will  give  you  my  address  again.  It  is  name,  com- 
pany, regiment,  Gen.  Banks'  Expedition  via  Wash- 
ington. Please  write  immediately,  and  often,  and 
send  all  the  Vanity  Fairs  or  other  papers  you  can  get. 
Yours,  lovingly, 

D.  P.  DEWEY. 

BATON  KOTJGE,  LA., 

Christmas,  1862. 
DEAR  MOTHER : 

Here  I  am  away  down  in  Louisiana,  my  first  Christ- 
mas from  home,  and  to-day  I  have  thought  of  old 
Hartford  and  those  in  it,  many  times.  But  there  is 
little  use  in  wishing  to  be  there,  as  it  is  unavailing,  and 
I  must  make  the  best  of  it.  Acting  upon  this  same 


DANIEL    PERKINS    DEWEY.  47 

idea  I  made  a  purchase  of  some  corn-bread  this  morn- 
ing, from  a  slave  and  a  box  of  sardines,  which  with 
fried  bacon  and  potatoes  that  Uncle  Sam  furnished  us 
made  up  my  Christmas  dinner.  I  tried  to  get  a 
chicken  but  did  not  succeed,  and  in  fact  it  is  hard  to 
get  anything  at  all  "at  any  price. 

I  went  to  church  this  morning  with  the  adjutant  and 
a  squad,  at  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  the  only  one 
open.  The  congregation  was  composed  chiefly  of 
soldiers,  as  the  town  is  almost  entirely  deserted,  but 
there  were  more  and  a  better  class  of  people  than  I 
should  have  imagined,  and  the  singing  was  very  good. 
Not  equal  to  Christ  Church  to  be  sure,  but  neverthe- 
less excellent.  The  Romanists  here  are  chiefly  French 
Creoles,  a  very  respectable  set  of  people,  who  are 
mostly  neutral  in  the  war,  which  accounts  for  their 
being  in  town.  It  is  saddening  to  go  through  this 
town,  formerly  a  flourishing  place,  but  now  half  burnt, 
with  great  black  ruins  standing  everywhere,  and  often 
a  house  with  a  huge  hole  in  its  walls  or  roof  where 
some  shell  or  ball  has  made  its  way.  The  grass  act- 
ually growing  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  and  the 
stores  are  all  closed  with  few  exceptions.  The  people 
creep  about  as  if  half  scared  to  death.  I  am  thank- 
ful that  most  of  my  friends  are  in  a  land  of  peace,  and 
do  not  live  in  daily  fear  of  their  lives  and  property. 
People  at  the  North  can  not  begin  to  understand  the 
reality  of  this  war,  but  at  the  South  it  is  brought 
home  to  them  with  terrible  reality.  Provisions  of  all 
kinds  are  scarce  and  high.  Flour  can  not  be  had  at 
any  price.  Crowds  of  people  come  into  the  camp, 


48  A   MEMORIAL  OF 

anxious  to  buy  anything,  often  giving  gold  and  silver 
rather  than  go  away  empty.  Salt,  so  cheap  at  the 
North,  brings  fabulous  prices.  Lard  and  butter  a 
dollar  a  pound  ;  sugar,  the  cheapest,  is  fifteen  cents  a 
pound,  &c.  There  is  no  milk  or  eggs,  or  salt  meat, 
tea  or  coffee,  in  fact  nothing  but  sweet  potatoes  and 
corn-meal,  and  they  are  high  for  this  region.  The 
only  thing  that  is  low  is  the  "  Contrabands,"  these  are 
plenty  at  a  low  figure — our  camp  is  full  of  them. 
They  swarm  in,  whole  plantations  of  them  at  a  time. 
They  are  turned  over  to  the  Provost  Marshall,  who 
sets  them  at  work.  All  teams,  or  horses  (most  miserable 
beasts  the  whole  of  them)  are  confiscated  in  the  same- 
way  and  set  to  work,  so  that  much  hard  work  is  taken 
from  the  soldiers. 

Perhaps  you  would  like  to  learn  my  movements 
since  my  last  letter  which  was  written  on  the  way  up 
the  river.  I  have  hardly  room  to  give  you  the  out- 
lines at  present.  Perhaps  sometime  I  shall  get  home 
to  tell  you  more.  We  reached  N.  O.  on  Sunday  eve., 
Dec.  17th,  and  lay  there  without  disembarking  through 
Monday,  during  which  time  we  ate  oranges  enough 
to  make  up  for  our  long  abstinence  on  the  voyage. 
Early  Tuesday  noon  we  set  sail  for  "  up  the  river," 
where,  we  did  not  precisely  know,  although  it  was 
supposed  to  be  this  place,  as  it  turned  out.  There 
were  five  transports  and  four  gun-boats  on  this  expe- 
dition. All  went  well  until  noon,  when  we  were 
startled  by  having  our  arms  delivered  to  us,  (they  had 
been  kept  in  the  boxes  until  now,)  together  with  four 
pounds  of  ammunition,  and  it  was  rumored  that  we 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  49 

were  to  go  into  action  within  twenty-four  hours,  much 
to  the  dissatisfaction  of  many  who  knew  nothing  about 
the  use  of  the  musket.  We  went  immediately  to 
drilling,  but  nothing  happened  until  night,  when  we 
were  ordered  to  sleep  on  our  arms  for  an  alarm.  I 
turned  in  on  deck  as  usual,  but  about  half-past  nine 
was  routed  out,  the  sailors  clearing  away  the  boat  un- 
der which  I  slept,  ready  to  land  the  troops,  and  it  was 
said  we  were  to  land  and  capture  some  rebel  batteries 
up  the  river  a  few  miles.  After  that  we  went  on 
slowly  "feeling"  our  way,  with  two  gunboats  in  ad- 
vance, one  about  the  middle  of  the  line  and  one  in 
the  rear,  expecting  to  be  fired  upon  every  minute. 
After  keeping  awake  about  an  hour  I  became  sleepy 
and  went  below  and  slept  till  morning  as  calmly  as  if 
at  home.  We  reached  Baton  Rouge  where  we  found 
the  U.  S.  frigate  Mississippi  and  the  iron-clad  gunboat 
Essex,  a  queer  looking  craft,  which,  if  I  have  time,  I 
will  sketch  for  you.  The  town  was  in  possession  of 
the  rebels.  We  dropped  anchor  in  the  stream  and 
the  Essex  drew  along  shore  and  commenced  shelling 
the  place.  After  about  twenty  shots  the  enemy  ske- 
daddled to  Port  Hudson,  about  twenty  miles  above, 
where  it  is  said  there  are  fifteen  thousand  rebels,  where 
probably,  the  right  general  guide  will  see  his  first 
battle.  We  soon  after  landed  and  encamped.  Our 
camp  life  I  will  describe  to  you  soon. 

I  have  written  to  no  one  thus  far,  but  to  you,  and  it 
will  not  do  ;  yet  I  wish  you  to  hear  as  often  as  possi- 
ble, and  write  to  the  girls,  and  Henry,  and  Aunt  Susan, 
and  others  at  the  same  time,  which  I  can  not  do  ;  so  I 
5 


50  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

would  like  you  to  send  my  letters  and  direct  them  to 
send  mine  to  you.  I  will  then  write  to  each  in  turn. 
So  for  the  present  one  letter  must  do  for  all — and  will 
you  write  to  me  and  tell  the  others  to  write  as  often 
as  possible  and  a  little  ofteiier,  even  if  I  do  not  write 
to  them,  for  it  is  harder  work  than  they  imagine.  I 
send  you  some  rose-buds  from  the  Court  House  yard, 
picked  to-day,  Dec.  25th,  mid-winter.  Will  you  send 
one  to  the  girls  ?  My  love  to  all,  and  be  assured  of 
my  earnest  regard  and  constant  remembrance  your- 
self. The  colonel  sends  his  regards. 

Your  loving  son, 

D.  P.  DEWEY. 

BATON  ROUGE,  Jan.  14th. 
DEAR  MOTHER  : 

I  can  not  send  a  letter  home  without  a  few  lines  to 
you,  especially  as  your  letter  which  arrived  yesterday 
reveals  the  fact  that  you  are  anxious  about  me.  So  I 
must  seize  this  chance  to  assure  you  that  I  am  in 
splendid  condition  physically  and  have  been  so,  ever 
since  I  left  the  North.  Camp  life  does  not  wear  upon 
me  scarcely  at  all  and  in  fact,  not  half  so  much  as  my 
summer  expedition  did.  Everything  is  regular,  which 
is  a  great  deal  for  me.  There  is  a  set  time  for  drill- 
ing, resting,  eating  and  sleeping.  Food  is  plain  and 
plentiful.  I  have  gained  some  ten  pounds  of  weight. 
I  am  not  exposed  to  work  or  to  weather  as  I  have 
been^  and  the  colds,  rheumatisms,  fevers  and  other  ail- 
ments which  have  siezed  others,  have  left  me  un- 
harmed. Excepting  the  separation  from  home  I  could 


DANIEL    PERKINS    DEWEY.  51 

not  well  be  more  contented  and  jolly ;  not  that  we 
have  an  easy  time  by  any  means,  far  from  it,  by  what 
you  will  see  I  have  written  Fannie,  but  hard  work  is 
not  so  hard  when  you  know  just  what  you  have  to  do 
and  how  to  do  it  and  have  regular,  invariable  rests. 
Occasionally,  that  is  when  our  turn  comes,  the  com- 
pany go  out  on  picket  duty,  when  we  take  our  sleep- 
ing arrangements  and  rations  and  march  out  to  the 
picket  post,  generally  one  or  two  miles  from  the  main 
camp — we  go  in  the  morning  and  remain  twenty-four 
hours.  The  main  company  is  posted  as  a  reserve, 
usually  at  some  deserted  house  or  sheltered  spot. 
Advance  post,  or  the  real  pickets  are  then  posted  some 
distance  in  advance,  two  or  three  together,  the  posts 
being  in  calling  distance  of  each  other.  One  of  these 
pickets  must  be  always  awake  and  watching.  Half  of 
the  reserve  have  also  to  be  on  their  feet ;  in  case  of 
an  attack  these  pickets  fall  back  to  the  reserve  and 
the  reserve  to  the  camp,  keeping  tb*e  enemy  in  check 
till  the  line  of  battle  can  be  formed.  So  you  see  what 
it  means  when  you  read  that  the  pickets  were  driven 
in.  When  we  are  on  picket  duty  we  usually  spend 
our  spare  time  in  foraging,  by  which  means  we  get 
our  sweet  potatoes,  sugar  and  molasses,  &c.  At  our 
last  post  the  chief  spoil  that  we  foraged  was  molasses 
from  an  old  deserted  sugar  factory,  and  pea-nuts, 
which  we  dug  in  a  field  and  roasted.  So  you  see  there 
are  some  advantages  in  outpost  duty.  There  is  a 
prospect  of  more  very  soon.  We  are  under  orders  to 
be  read^y  for  a  march  at  any  moment,  and  Gen.  Banks' 
expedition  is  expected  up  to  review  us  in  a  few  days. 


52  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

When  we  do  fight,  I  most  heartily  hope  we  shall  do 
better  than  the  reports  that  we  get  inform  us  they  are 
doing  north  of  us. 

But  I  have  written  more  than  I  expected  already. 
I  shall  send  this  as  far  as  N.  Y.  by  Serg't  Hubbell, 
who  has  received  a  commission  in  the  21st  Conn.,  and 
is  going  home.     So  you  will  be  sure  to  get  it. 
Good  bye, 

With  much  love, 

D. 

BATON  ROUGE,  Jan.  14th. 
DEAR  FANNIE  : 

I  received  the  first  letter  from  home  yesterday,  be- 
ing the  second  one  Mother  has  sent  me.  The  first  has 
not  reached  me  yet,  but  I  hope  it  will.  I  learned 
from  the  second  letter  that  you  had  left  school,  so  that 
I  can  not  now  write  to  you  and  Julie  together  ;  so  you 
must  send  this  to  her  wherever  she  is.  The  first  part 
of  it  was  written  about  a  mile  from  here,  from  which 
place  we  moved  the  next  Sunday,  being  ordered  into 
the  town,  as  it  was  feared  that  the  rebels  were  going 
to  attack  us  in  great  numbers.  Some  how  or  other 
they  manage  to  take  our  days  of  rest  from  us.  We 
moved  out  there  New  Year's  day,  back  on  Sunday, 
and  every  Sunday  there  is  almost  as  much  work  to  do 
as  on  any  other  day.  Pretty  busy  times,  I  tell  you. 
I  will  tell  you  how  we  spend  the  day.  The  bugle 
sounds  at  5^  A.  M.,  when  we  fall  in  under  arms,  and 
form  the  regimental  lines  on  the  double  quick,  and 
take  our  places  behind  an  earthwork  (which  I  helped 


DANIEL    PERKINS  DEWEY.  53 

by  the  way,  to  make.)  Here  we  have  to  stand  till 
daylight  to  be  ready  for  an  attack,  which  the  rebels 
are  very  fond  of  making  just  about  that  time.  After 
we  get  back  from  the  ground  we  have  breakfast,  at 
eight  guard  mounting,  nine  to  ten,  drill,  eleven  to 
twelve,  drill,  half-past  twelve,  dinner,  after  dinner 
we  drill  from  two  to  four,  dress  parade  at  half-past 
four,  supper  next.  Tattoo  with  roll  call  at  eight, 
taps  lights  out,  at  nine.  So  we  live  every  day,  and  it 
keeps  us  pretty  busy  too  and  tired,  so  that  writing  or 
reading  time  is  scarce.  Write  often  and  a  great  deal. 
Give  my  love  to  all ;  Mother,  the  boys,  Nap  and 
Kitty,  Maggie,  and  all  the  rest. 
Good  bye, 

From  your  brother, 

D. 

DEAR  MOTHER  : 

I  received  your  last  letter  and  Fannie's  day  before 
yesterday,  and  although  I  was  delighted  to  hear  from 
home,  I  was  sorry  to  hear  that  you  had  been  sick. 
The  last  news,  however,  was  encouraging  and  I  hope 
soon  to  hear  of  your  complete  recovery.  I  shall  look 
anxiously  for  the  next  mail.  The  papers  came  all 
right,  and  for  them  I  am  infinitely  obliged.  They 
remind  us  that  there  is  such  a  place  as  H.,  and  that 
friends  there  are  remembering  us.  Your  first  letter, 
which  you  said  you  sent  to  Ship  Island,  I  shall  prob- 
ably never  see,  and  aunt  Susan  speaks  of  your  send- 
ing one  with  my  card  in  it,  that  I  have  never  re- 
ceived. I  suppose  I  must  be  satisfied  if  I  get  about 
half  that  are  sent,  as  that  seems  to  be  the  case  with 
5* 


54  A    MEMOEIAL   OF 

most  soldiers ;  but  it  is  rather  hard  ;  I  only  hope  mine 
all  get  safely  home.  There  have  been  great  changes 
in  our  officers  lately.  The  lieut.  col.,  major  and  sev- 
eral lieutenants  have  resigned,  and  their  resignations 
were  accepted.  Captain  Weld  has  received  a  nomin- 
ation from  the  col.  as  lieut.  colonel ;  our  Orderly, 
Ward,  is  adjutant,  Lieut.  Norton  is  now  captain,  and 
Waterman,  1st  lieut.  The  2d  lieutenancy  is  vacant 
and  will  probably  be  filled  from  another  company,  as 
the  col.  talks  of  consolidating  some  of  the  small  ones 
and  making  only  eight  companies  in  the  regiment. 

Sunday,  Feb.  1st.  I  went  into  town  to-day  for 
the  first  time  since  New  Year's  day  and  was  surprised 
at  the  change.  Many  of  the  inhabitants  have  re- 
turned, and  the  streets  are  quite  gay,  compared  to 
their  appearance  when  we  first  arrived.  The  stores, 
many  of  them,  were  open.  We  can  buy  anything 
almost,  from  a  spool  of  thread  to  a  dictionary.  The 
price  of  things  is  perfectly  astonishing.  Quinine,  so 
necessary  in  this  land  of  chills  and  fever  is  worth  sev- 
enteen dollars  an  ounce,  outside  the  lines — more  than 
gold.  So  you  see  that  there  are  some  things  more 
precious  than  specie,  and  speaking  of  specie,  it  is 
more  plenty  here,  I  imagine,  than  at  the  North.  Some 
of  these  old  planters  come  into  town,  buy  their  flour 
and  salt  and  pay  for  them  in  silver  half  dollars. 
Change  is  often  given  by  the  shopkeepers  in  silver  and 
once  in  a  while,  in  gold.  The  suttlers  get  it  all  and 
send  it  home  on  speculation  ;  so  it  does  us  poor  coves, 
no  good. 


DANIEL    PERKINS    DEWEY.  55 

February  16th,  1863. 
DEAR  MOTHER: 

A  mail  came  last  night,  bringing  me  a  letter  from 
you,  post  marked,  Jan.  26th,  the  long  looked  for  Ship 
Island  letter,  telling  all  about  Christmas  and  affairs  at 
home,  I  was  delighted  to  get  it,  but  at  the  same 
time  it  made  me  rather  j  homesick,  as  I  imagined  you 
all  in  the  little  rooms,  and  wished  I  could  have  been 
there  for  that  day.  I  do  not  repent  my  enlistment  at 
all  and  would  not  go  home  now  if  I  could  get  my  dis- 
charge, but  that  does  not  prevent  my  thinking  of  you 
often,  and  with  great  desire  to  see  you. 

Yesterday,  I  think,  was  one  of  the  most  disagreea- 
ble days  I  ever  saw.  The  wind  blew  keen  and  cold 
from  the  north  and  the  sky  was  covered  with  grey 
clouds.  Here  in  this  climate,  such  a  day  is  felt  more 
keenly  than  at  the  north,  where  you  have  more  uniform 
weather.  Now,  to-day,  the  sky  is  clear  and  the  sun 
isjwarm  and  pleasant  as  in  June  ;  in  fact  it  is  a  glori- 
ous day  ;  a  day  to  drive  away  the  blues  from  the 
bluest  hypocondriac.  The  birds  are  hopping  about 
and  singing,  and  the  soldiers  are  all  out  of  doors  thaw- 
ing out  from  yesterday's  freeze.  Such  days  it  is  fun 
to  be  a  'oldier.  I  lie  here  in  the  sun,  my  pencil  in 
hand,  enjoying  life  a  great  deal  better  than  many  well 
housed  people  that  I  know.  After  all  there  is  a  free- 
dom from  responsibility  about  a  soldier's  life  that  makes 
it  one  of  the  most  contented  lives  in  the  world.  Every 
one  knows  just  what  he  has  to  do,  and  how  to  do  it. 
When  it  is  done  he  has  little  else  to  think  of;  none  of 
the  cares  and  anxieties  of  life  to  trouble  him  and 
somebody  to  take  care  of  him,  besides. 


56  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

I  was  interrupted  here  by  a  drill  call  and  have  been 
unable  to  resume  until  now,  (evening.)  I  am  acting 
as  orderly,  all  the  other  sergeants  being  on  the  sick  list 
except  myself  and  one  other  who  has  charge  of  the 
rations.  I  have  been  promoted  to  be  second  sergeant. 
Sergeant  Goodwin  is  orderly.  It  may  cause  some  ill 
feeling,  but  it  was  none  of  my  doings.  I  do  not  feel 
that  I  ought  to  decline  any  advancement,  as  I  started 
below  my  level,  and  am  only  working  up  to  it.  So 
let  things  work.  I  have  a  bet  that  I'll  come  home 
with  shoulder  straps  and  I  fancy  I  shall  win  it.  To- 
morrow I  go  on  guard  for  the  first  time  since  leaving 
Hartford.  I  have  resigned  my  position  as  right  gene- 
ral guide.  Another  mail  came  this  afternoon,  which 
makes  two  in  two  days  ;  something  of  a  wonder,  &c. 

February  18th. 

You  see  from  the  patched  up  style  of  this  epistle, 
how  busy  I  am.  I  have  to  improve  every  five  min- 
utes, and  precious  few  of  them  do  I  get.  But  to-day 
I  am  on  guard  and  have  plenty  of  spare  time,  so  that 
I  think  I  can  finish  without  interruption.  Each  mail 
brings  a  greater  or  a  smaller  number  of  illustrated 
newspapers  which  are  generally  circulated,  and  some 
of  the  pictures  are  remarkably  correct,  especially  those 
in  Frank  Leslie's.  He  has  a  very  good  repi'esenta- 
tion  of  our  landing  here.  There  was  another  in 
Harper  evidently  made  out  of  the  whole  cloth  and 
having  no  resemblance  to  the  truth.  I  think  that 
Frank  Leslie  really  has  an  artist  with  the  expedition, 
and  will  probably  give  true  pictures  of  events  which 


DANIEL    PERKINS   DEWEY.  57 

transpire  here.  To-day  is  pay-day  with,  the  13th 
Conn.,  and  it  is  amusing  to  see  the  soldiers  in  posses- 
sion of  their  money.  They  are  as  pleased  as  children 
with  a  picture  book.  The  sutlers  are  crowded  and 
oranges,  gingerbread  and  cider  are  rapidly  disappear- 
ing. In  a  day  or  two  it  will  be  our  turn,  and  then  I 
expect  to  see  still  greater  rejoicing,  as  it  will  be  the 
first  time  with  us.  '  When  I  get  my  pay  I  think  I  shall 
go  in  town  and  have  one  Christian-like  meal  at  a  table 
with  a  knife  and  fork,  as  they  say  there  are  restau- 
rants open  where  you  can  get  such  things.  I  shall  go 
and  see  any  way.  You  ask  me  various  questions  in 
regard  to  the  contrabands,  some  of  which  it  would  be 
hard  to  answer,  but  I  will  tell  you  what  1  think  of 
them  as  near  as  I  can.  In  the  first  place,  I  never  saw 
so  many  before  in  iny  life — real,  genuine,  black,  field 
negroes.  The  streets,  houses,  camps,  levees,  every 
place  swarms  with  them.  They  come  in  in  crowds 
every  day,  and  are  taken  in  charge  by  the  authorities, 
and  are  set  at  work.  At  first  they  work  well,  under 
the  novelty  of  their  new  position ;  but  after  a  while 
their  true  character  appears.  They  become  careless 
and  lazy,  caring  more  for  their  bacon  and  dances  and 
sleep,  than  for  labor  or  any  attempt  at  self-improve- 
ment. Then  the  old  influence  of  fear  has  to  be  brought 
to  bear  upon  them  and  rough  language,  and  threats 
are  more  potent  than  reason  or  persuasion.  But  this 
is  not  "  work  for  wages,"  as  the  only  pay  they  get  is 
their  food  and  lodging.  The  only  paid  labor  is  done 
by  the  women  in  the  shape  of  washing,  and  I  am  sorry 
to  say  I  know  of  several  instances  where  clothes  sent 


58  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

to  the  wash  were  never  returned.  As  soldiers  they 
do  very  well,  as  they  manage  their  arms  well  and  are 
obedient ;  but  I  imagine  that  even  in  this  walk  of  life 
their  obedience  is  due  to  fear  and  habit,  rather  than 

to  any  prompt  sense  of  duty  or  self-respect,  &c. 

#  *  *  *  #  *  * 

You  ask  me  if  I  feel  like  re-enlisting  when  I  get 
back.  I  really  can  not  tell  anything  about  it.  We 
have  not  I  suppose,  seen  the  worst  phase  of  soldier- 
ing, namely,  the  fighting  part.  After  a  few  battles  I 
may  have  enough  of  it,  although  at  present  I  am  in- 
clined to  see  the  war  out ;  yet  I  must  confess  that  I 
have  not  quite  as  much  faith  in  the  ultimate  success 
as  I  did  have  ;  every  thing  seems  slow  and  undeter- 
mined, no  activity,  no  life.  But  I  don't  know  prob- 
ably as  much  as  those  in  command  and  they  are  doing 
what  seems  best  to  them.  Well,  I  should  think  I  had 
written  enough  for  one  letter,  although  as  you  say,  I 
could  write  and  write  and  never  stop.  But  I  must 
close  sometime  as  my  odds  and  ends  of  paper  have 
been  used  up  ;  I  think  I  will  noUcommence  another 
sheet.  I  am  in  excellent  health,  have  grown  so  stout 
that  I  can  not  button  my  vest. 

With  much  love  to  you  and  all, 

Your  Son, 

D. 

BATON  ROUGE, 
Tuesday,  Feb.  17th,  1863. 
DEAR  SISTER  : 

Your  note  with  the  package  came  all  right  and 
reached  me  a  few  days  ago,  and  I  suppose  it  is  need- 


DANIEL     PERKINS   DEWEY.  59 

less  to  tell  you  that  I  enjoyed  them  hugely.  Sardines 
are  always  acceptable,  and  tobacco  is  now  one  of  the 
greatest  comforts  I  have.  I  fill  my  pipe  and  lie  down 
on  my  back  and  think  of  home  and  picture  all  dear 
faces  in  the  smoke — and  then  too,  on  a  cold  night  on 
picket  duty  away  in  the  lonely  woods  without  any 
fire,  a  pipe  is  a  great  companion.  But  I  suppose  you 
will  turn  up  your  precious  little  nose  at  the  idea,  and 
so  I  will  say  no  more  about  it. 

I  shall  put  you  to  shame  when  I  come  home,  when 
you  see  how  well  I  can  wash  and  cook  and  sew.  We 
are  obliged  to  wash  all  our  under  clothing  once  a  week 
and  I  have  attained  such  a  proficiency  that  I  sliall 
compete  with  the  professional  washerwoman  soon — and 
as  to  sewing  why,  I  sewed  a  new  chevron  on  one  of 
my  sleeves  the  other  day  a  great  deal  better  than  the 
old  ones  were.  But  I  give  up  one  thing  to  its  proper 
owners  and  that  is  darning  stockings.  I  darned  mine 
yesterday  and  before  I  got  through  I  "  darned"  them 
"  out  loud"  and  they  were  the  "  darnedest"  looking 
stockings  you  ever  did  see,  when  I  finished  them. 

February  20th. 

Your  letter  mailed  Feb.  3d,  and  two  of  Mother's 
mailed  Jan.  25th  and  28th,  came  this  morning  with 
one  from  Mr.  Ashe,  all  which  I  was  delighted  to  re- 
ceive. I  fear  some  mails  have  been  lost  as  I  can  not 
account  for  some  letters  which  I  know  have  been  sent- 
However,  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  contented  to  hear 
from  you  at  all  away  down  here  in  this  barbarous 
country.  Tell  Maggie  that  I  often  have  "  chills,"  es- 


60  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

pecially  at  sight  of  nervous  young  ladies.  I  have 
had  four  "  attacks"  of  spiders,  seven  of  "  caterpillars," 
and  fifteen  of  "  mice  ;"  and  besides  I  have  contracted 
a  new  disease  peculiar  to  the  country,  called  the  "  liz- 
ards." There  are  lots  of  them  here.  Little  green 
and  brown  and  spotted  fellows.  They  look  like  small 
alligators  ;  I  have  a  little  mottled  fellow  that  sleeps 
in  my  vest  pocket  every  night  and  eats  out  of  my 
plate  ;  I  am  going  to  bring  him  home  when  I  come, 
for  I  have  grown  so  fond  of  him  that  I  can  not  bear 
the  idea  of  separation  ! 

****** 

You  say  that  Annie  did  not  send  her  love  to  me, 
nor  anything ;  now  I  shall  immediately  proceed  to 
heap  coals  of  fire  on  her  head  by  sending  her  my  very 
best  regards.  Be  sure  to  give  them  to  her.  They 
cost  a  good  deal  down  here. 

In  great  haste,  but  with  much  love,  to  all, 
Your  brother, 

D.  P.  DEWEY. 

After  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  a  pack- 
age from  his  mother,  and  saying  to  her,  "  I  al- 
most cried  when  I  opened  it  and  saw  how  well 
you  were  caring  for  me,  away  off  here,"  he 
begs  to  hear  "  anything"  from  his  college  com- 
panions, he  writes  under  date  of  Feb.  23d,  at 
Camp  Grover,  Baton  Rouge,  to  his  mother,  to 
whom  his  thoughts  and  affections  so  constantly 
turn. 


DANIEL  PERKINS   DEWEY.  61 

"  It  is  a  long  time  since  I  have  written,  but  I  have 
been  so  busy  that  I  have  hardly  had  time  to  take  my 
meals,  and  you  know  I  must  be  very  much  occupied 
when  I  don't  do  that.  Sergeant  Goodwin,  our  or- 
derly, has  been  unwell  for  sometime  and  his  duties 
fell  upon  me  as  second  sergeant.  That  was  enough 
for  one  man,  but  in  addition  Lieutenant  Waterman, 
the  only  commissioned  officer  in  the  company,  was 
taken  sick  two  days  ago,  since  which  time  I  have  had 
command  of  the  company.  You  should  see  with  what 
dignity  and  style  I  conduct  myself.  I  have  all  the 
drilling  to  do  at  dress-parade.  1  don  the  orderly's 
sash  and  sword  and  with  brightly  polished  boots  and 
spotless  white  gloves  I  march  Company  A,  the  best 
company  in  the  regiment,  out  into  lines,  issue  orders, 
present  arms  with  my  sword  and  conduct  myself  gen- 
erally with  all  the  dignity  of  a  pair  of  shoulder  straps. 
However,  it  gives  me  so  much  to  do  that  I  have  little 
time  to  write,  and  little  inclination  when  I  have  time. 
I  should  not  be  writing  to-day  but  that  we  have  a  holi- 
day given  us  to  celebrate  Washington's  birthday, 
which  occurred  yesterday,  (Sunday,)  when  we  had  an 
assemblage  at  head-quarters,  and  where  we  had  a  sort 
of  rostrum  made  of  drums,  draped  in  the  flag,  and 
stacks  of  arms  on  each  side,  with  the  colors  of  the 
different  regiments  placed  upon  them.  The  services 
consisted  of  singing,  prayers,  an  address  from  Chap- 
lain Oviatt  of  our  regiment,  and  music  by  the  Thir- 
teenth Connecticut  band.  Altogether  it  was  a  very 
interesting  service.  To-day,  all  drill  and  other  duties 
6 


62  A  MEMORIAL  OF 

are  suspended  and  games  of  ball,  quoits  and  other 
amusements  are  occupying  the  men.  In  other  brig- 
ades I  understand  that  celebrations  are  going  on  in  a 
more  extensive  style,  but  I  could  not  leave  to  attend 
them.  Hang  the  having  so  much  responsibility  !  It 
keeps  me  tied  up  like  a  slave.  In  old  times  when  "  I 
did  not  want  to,"  I  "  wouldn't,"  but  now  I  have  to  do 
it  whether  I  will  or  no.  Well,  I  suppose  I  shall  enjoy 
personal  liberty  all  the  more  in  consequence,  that  is, 
when  I  get  it.  You  must  expect  to  see  excessive  lazi- 
ness for  a  little  while  after  I  come  home.  How  jolly 
it  will  be  to  go  into  a  house  with  carpets  and  chairs 
and  pictures  and  a  piano  and  to  sit  down  at  a  table  in 
a  chair,  a  real  chair,  with  a  table-cloth  and  plates  and 
knives  and  forks  and  glass  and  all  the  accoutrements 
of  civilization.  Why,  I  shall  be  so  awkward  that  1 
shall  be  hardly  able  to  satisfy  my  hunger.  I  shall 
expect  the  whole  family  to  fall  into  line  and  march 
.into  the  kitchen,  when  the  cook  will  give  them  their 
rations,  and  each  one  will  sit  down  "  tailor  fashion," 
.on  the  floor,  with  his  plate  before  him  and  in  such  wise 
eat  his  dinner,  and  when  it  is  over  each  one  must  take 
,  his  own  dishes,  wash  them  and  put  them  away  in  their 
.proper  place.  And  at  night  I  shall  want  to  spread 
my  blanket  on  the  floor,  wrap  my  overcoat  about  me 
.and  compose  myself  to  sleep,  expecting  to  be  roused 
at  midnight  by  the  "  long  roll,"  or  in  the  morning  by 
the  "  reveille."  I  shall  pay  no  attention  to  the  bell  at 
all,  but  shall  have  to  hire  a  drummer  to  beat  his  toc- 
sin in  the  hall.  I  wish  I  could  drop  in  upon  you  to- 
night, unexpectedly.  What  a  time  there  would  be ! 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  63 

just  imagine  it.  However,  it  will  not  do  for  me  to 
dwell  too  much  on  such  topics,  for  it  is  in  every  way 
desirable  that  I  should  keep  up  my  spirits ;  so  good 
bye.  I  must  be  ready  for  dress  parade. 

February  25th. 
DEAR  MOTHER: 

Another  mail  yesterday,  bringing  one  or  two  pa- 
pers ;  one  illustrated  from  Fannie,  for  which  I  thank 
her  very  much.  I  am  sure  more  letters  are  written 
and  sent  than  I  receive.  Great  care  should  be  taker* 
that  the  address  be  written  distinctly,  especially  the 
25th,  as  we  receive  many  letters  directed  to  the  23d, 
because  of  the  similarity  of  the  figures  and  no  doubt 
some  of  ours  go  to  them.  A  mail  is  almost  the  only 
excitement  we  have  just  now  ;  everything  jogs  along 
as  quietly  as  at  college.  The  other  day  a  rebel  boat 
came  down  from  Port  Hudson,  bringing  prisoners  for 
exchange,  which  amused  us  for  a  little  while.  The 
secesh  ladies  turned  out  in  force  to  cheer  their  brave 
defenders  as  they  went  steaming  up  stream  again. 
Some  of  them  said  they  would  go  and  kiss  them,  rag- 
ged and  dirty  as  they  were,  if  they  only  could.  Poor 
dears,  how  much  they  must  want  to  kiss  somebody !  I 
have  not  seen  one  yet  that  was  worth  looking  at,  much 
less  kissing.  Last  night  the  pickets  had  a  brush  with 
the  enemy's  cavalry,  which  came  riding  down  upon 
them.  Only  about  twenty  shots  were  fired,  but  no 
harm  done  that  J  know  of.  The  companies  turned 
out  at  the  shots,  but  the  "long  roll"  did  not  beat  and 
there  was  no  general  alarm.  In  a  few  minutes  all 
was  quiet  again.  Except  these  little  affairs  nothing 


64  A    MEMORIAL   OF 

happens.  Lieutenant  Waterman  is  better,  also  Ser- 
geant Goodwin  ;  so  my  duties  are  lighter.  I  have 
been  excused  from  drill  this  afternoon  which  gives  me 
a  little  leisure.  My  health  continues  good,  surpris- 
ingly so  ;  however  my  time  may  come,  but  I  trust  to 
Providence  to  bring  me  safely  back.  Almost  every- 
body feels  the  change  of  climate  more  or  less,  but 
the  only  really  dangerous  sickness  is  typhoid  fever, 
which  is  not  as  yet  very  prevalent.  The  autumn  is 
the  most  unhealthy  season,  but  before  that  we  shall 
be  home.  So  I  hope  if  I  don't  get  shot  in  battle  I 
shall  see  Hartford  again  in  good  condition. 

All  the  boys*  are  well  and  send  their  love  every 
time,  but  I  never  think  to  put  them  in.  So  you  can 
imagine  them  there.  Rice  is  in  the  hospital  as  as- 
sistant steward,  Taylor  is  adjutant's  clerk.  Hugg 
has  got  to  be  corporal,  with  good  prospects.  Cook, 
and  Forbes,  and  Woodbridge  and  the  rest  are  natu- 
ral as  life,  excepting  whiskers,  which  have  reached  an 
unnatural  growth.  My  hair  is  wild  and  long,  I  don't 
know  whether  you  would  know  me  or  not.  But 
enough  for  the  present.  With  much  love  to  you  all, 
Your  loving  Son, 

D.  P.  DEWEY. 

CAMP  GROVER,  BATON  ROUGE, 

March  3d,  '63. 
DEAR  MOTHER: 

I  have  been  disappointed  in  not  receiving  a  letter 
from  you  by  to-day's  mail,  although  I  did  get  a  couple 

*  The  squad  of  which  he  was  the  corporal. 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  65 

of  papers,  Vanity  Fair  and  another,  which  mysteri- 
ously disappeared  before  I  had  opened  it,  and  of  which 
I  have  been  unable  to  find  a  single  trace.  I  laid  it 
down  and  as  I  was  very  busy  did  not  look  for  it  for 
some  time  and  when  I  did  it  was  gone.  I  am  sorry, 
as  they  are  all  precious,  but  perhaps  it  will  turn  up 
somewhere  to-morrow.  I  did  receive  a  letter  to-day, 
which  proved  to  be  a  miserable  "  sell."*  I  enclose  it, 
and  please  keep  it  as  a  curiosity.  Idon't  know  who 
sent  it,  but  I  think  I  can  guess  pretty  near  and  if  my 
suspicion  is  right  wont  I  be  even  with  them  some  time ! 

Perhaps  you  wonder  why  I  am  writing  with  ink, 
contrary  to  my  usual  custom,  but  the  fact  is  I've  risen 
above  pencils.  I'm  sitting  at  a  table  with  all  writing 
conveniences,  before  me  and  a  fire  at  my  back.  I 
don't  live  where  I  used  to,  I've  moved,  I've  changed 
my  boarding  place,  I  live  with  Lieut.  Waterman,  and 
as  I  look  over  my  shoulders  I  can  see  a  pair  of  Sec- 
ond Lieutenant's  straps  on  them ;  in  short,  I  have 
been  promoted  again,  have  received  a  commission,  and 
the  next  time  you  write  you  may  change  Sergeant  to 
Lieutenant,  &c. 

Please  send  me  by  Adams'  Express  a  copy  of  "  Ca- 
sey's Infantry  Tactics,"  a  work  of  three  volumes,  and 
a  package  of  paper  and  envelopes.  I  think  I  shall 
get  it,  as  the  Express  Company  have  an  office  here, 
and  our  brigade  will  probably  not  move  in  the  coming 
advance,  but  will  remain  to  hold  the  place,  so  we  shall 
stay  here  some  time. 

Several  days  ago  your  letter  came,  also  one  enclos- 

*  A  valentine. 


66  A   MEMORIAL  OP 

ing  Tom's.  How  much  he  improves  in  composition. 
I  was  surprised  to  see  what  a  difference  there  was  be- 
tween his  last  letter  and  his  first.  I  have  heard  from 
Ashe  also  ;  the  first  letter  from  college.  I  am  glad  to 
hear  that  Henry  is  improving  in  health.  But  I  am 
anxious  on  your  account ;  almost  every  letter  indicates 
in  some  way  that  you  are  not  in  good  health,  at  least 
not  in  good  spirits.  I  am  afraid  that  you  are  worried 
and  anxious  about  something.  I  hope  it  is  not  about 
me ;  if  it  is  Mother,  set  your  heart  at  rest,  for  I  am 
doing  as  well  every  way  as  I  could  wish.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  the  unavoidable  effect  of  a  new  climate,  my 
health  is  as  good  if  not  better  than  it  ever  was  before, 
and  as  for  position,  it  is  constantly  improving.  So, 
except  the  separation  from  home,  I  do  not  see  how  my 
situation  could  be  improved. 

If  you  move  by  July  1st,  I  expect  you  will  be 
nearly  settled  by  the  time  I  come  home,  which  prob- 
ably will  not  be  before  the  middle  of  September. 
There  is  so  much  confusion  about  the  commence- 
ment of  our  time  that  everything  is  uncertain.  If  we 
were  not  mustered  in  till  November  llth,  our  nine 
months  don't  end  till  August  llth,  and  it  will  be  some 
time  after  that  before  we  reach  home.  So  don't  be 
impatient  but  take  everything  quietly  and  trust  to 
Providence  to  bring  them  out  straight.  Daily  arri- 
vals of  troops  and  guns  are  occurring  and  gradually 
a  large  force  is  being  massed  here.  New  gun-boats 
are  constantly  arriving  and  a  few  days  ago  a  hundred 
heavy  siege  guns  came  up  the  river.  Everything  in- 
dicates an  early  movement  in  some  direction.  Per- 


DANIEL    PERKINS    DEWEY.  67 

haps  it  may  be  to  Mobile,  but  probably  to  Port  Hudson. 
Almost  all  the  troops  except  our  brigade  have  march- 
ing orders.  Our  regiment,  it  is  said,  will  remain  here 
to  garrison  the  town.  I  am  sorry,  for  I  want  to  see 
some  of  the  fighting.  The  rebels  are  growing  bolder, 
their  cavalry  hangs  around  our  picket  lines  and  their 
gun-boats  come  down  the  river  occasionally  to  recon- 
noitre. Perhaps  they  will  try  to  drive  us  out,  time 
will  show. 

Col.  Bissell  and  boys  send  regards.     My  love  to  all 
and  please  tell  them  to  write  long  letters  and  often. 
With  much  love,  your  Son, 

D.  P.  DEWEY. 

MARCH  14xn,  8  miles  from  Port  Hudson. 

DEAR  MOTHER  : 

We  are  on  the  move  for  the  rebel  strong  hold,  Port 
Hudson.  Our  regiment  received  moving  orders  last 
Monday  eve.,  to  be  ready  at  a  moment's  notice.  At 
4  A.  M.,  Tuesday,  we  started  and  marched  about  five 
miles  to  a  stream  where  a  bridge  -had  been  destroyed 
by  the  rebs,  which  we  rebuilt  and  then  waited  for  the 
main  column.  Our  company  was  sent  off  about  a 
mile  across  the  country,  with  a  detachment  of  cavalry, 
to  hold  the  wood  lying  nearly  parallel  to  Port  Hudson 
road.  Here  we  fared  well  and  had  an  easy  time. 
Remained  here,  occasionally  hearing  and  seeing  the 
rebel  cavalry,  but  having  no  serious  contention  with 
them  till  Friday  night,  when  we  were  ordered  to  join 
the  regiment.  By  this  time  the  troops  in  the  region 


68  A    MEMORIAL    OF 

were  in  motion,  north ;  one  column  on  the  Port 
Hudson  road,  another  nearly  as  large  on  the  Clinton 
road.  When  we  reached  the  bridge  we  found  that 
our  own  and  the  first  and  second  brigades  had  gone 
and  we  were  ordered  to  follow  as  guards  to  the  bag- 
gage wagons.  We  went  about  three  miles  in  the  dark 
and  then  camped  down  in  a  cornfield.  No  fires  and 
no  tents,  and  hard  tack  to  eat.  We  were  on  the  march 
again  at  six  this  morning.  It  is  an  oppressive  day, 
many  have  dropped  out ;  coats  and  blankets  and  knap- 
sacks all  packed,  have  been  thrown  away.  I  drank 
muddy  water  from  a  ditch  by  the  roadside  for  the  first 
time.  The  last  five  days  have  been  full  of  adventure 
and  at  some  fitting  time  I  shall  describe  them  more 
fully.  About  noon  we  halted  in  another  cornfield  and 
have  been  here  ever  since  and  will  not  start  again 
probably,  till  some  time  in  the  night,  perhaps  not  till 
morning;  but  before  to-morrow  night  there  will  be  one 
of  the  hardest  fought  battles  of  the  war  at  least  com- 
menced, if  not  finished.  Once  more  we  can  hear  the 
heavy  boom  of  cannon  from  the  direction  of  the  river, 
where  the  gun-boats  have  probably  engaged  some  of 
the  batteries.  All  the  men  are  resting,  but  there  is  a 
fierce  struggle  coming  and  in  it  it  may  be  my  lot  to 
fall.  Well,  I  am  ready  if  it  be  God's  will.  I  have 
a  great  longing  to  see  you  all  once  more,  but  it  can 
not  be ;  so  I  must  sit  here  and  make  pencil  and  paper 
speak  for  me,  if  indeed  this  ever  reaches  you.  But 
if  I  never  come  home  again  you  must  not  grieve  for 
me  but  rather  contemplate  the  glorious  cause  in  which 
I  fell.  I  have  every  trust  in  a  kind  Providence  and 


DANIEL    PERKINS   DEWBY.  69 

whatever  he  orders  we  must  all  submit  to.  However, 
my  chances  for  life  are  as  good  as  anybody's,  a  great 
many  more  survive  than  fall.  The  other  regiments 
are  falling  in  and  I  suppose  we  will  in  a  few  minutes. 
Good  bye,  with  much  love  to  you  all. 

*  Your  loving  son, 

D.  P.  DEWEY. 

March  16th,  1863. 
DEAU  MOTHER: 

I  have  a  chance  to  send  to  town  just  now  and  I 
have  only  time  to  write  you  that  I  am  perfectly  well, 
although  we  have  all  passed  through  great  hardships 
lately  and  are  expecting  a  battle  hourly.  I  have 
another  letter  under  way,  which  I  will  send  at  the  first 
opportunity.  We  have  been  traveling  around  the 
country  through  sun  and  rain  and  dust  and  mud,  for 
the  last  week.  Everything  looks  well  for  our  cause. 
We  must  soon  have  a  fight  or  a  retreat.  If  I  have 
another  chance  I  will  send  a  letter.  With  much  love 
to  you  and  all, 

Your  affectionate  son, 

D.  P.  D. 

BATON  ROUGE,  March  16th,  Wednesday. 
DEAR  MOTHER  : 

Since  I  wrote  you  last  we  have  seen  busy  and  hard 
times.  A  week  ago  to-day  we  struck  tents  and  the 
next  morning  at  4  o'clock  we  started  with  ten  days' 
rations,  and  blankets  and  overcoats,  our  regiment  hav- 


TO  A    MEMORIAL   OP 

ing  been  ordered  five  miles  up  the  river  to  rebuild  a 
bridge  destroyed  by  the  rebels ;  this  we  successfully 
accomplished  and  the  regiment  lay  there  till  Tuesday 
last,  being  detached  to  guard  another  road.  This  pa- 
per is  from  the  blank  book  of  a  rebel  schoolmistress, 
which  was  confiscated,  together  with  other  articles, 
among  them  some  valuable  maps.  After  leaving  here 
we  marched  about  two  miles  and  bivouaced  for  the 
night  in  an  open  field,  and  the  next  day  we  marched 
about  five  or  six  miles  further  and  again  camped  in 
the  open  fields.  This  march  was  very  severe,  the  sun 
being  hot  and  the  road  dry.  We  halted  about  noon 
and  skirmishers,  both  cavalry  and  infantry,  were 
thrown  forward,  it  being  supposed  that  rebel  fortifica- 
tions were  before  us.  But  nothing  very  serious  was 
discovered.  One  of  Gen.  Banks'  aids,  Col.  Clark, 
was  shot  in  the  ankle  and  his  horse  killed  and  in  fall- 
ing he  broke  the  leg  of  his  rider.  The  rebel  scouts 
and  our  own  exchanged  shots,  but  nothing  like  an  en- 
gagement took  place.  Here  we  remained  in  suspense 
all  night.  About  sundown  heavy  firing  was  heard 
in  the  distance  in  the  direction  of  the  river,  from 
which  we  were  four  or  five  miles  distant.  This  con- 
tinued all  night,  and  about  midnight  we  could  see  a 
bright  light  gradually  floating  down  stream,  which  we 
took  for  a  fire-raft  sent  down  by  the  enemy  against 
our  fleet.  About  o  A.  M.  it  blew  up  with  a  terrible 
explosion,  which  shook  the  ground  like  an  earthquake, 
and  then  all  was  quiet.  Late  in  the  day  it  was  said 
that  part  of  our  fleet  had  succeeded  in  running  the 
rebel  batteries,  but  that  one  of  them,  the  Mississippi, 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  71 

had  been  fired  by  a  red  hot  shot  from  the  rebs  and 
had  been  abandoned  and  afterwards  blown  up.  This 
was  only  rumor  and  we  don't  know  whether  it  is  true 
or  not.  Will  you  send  me  papers  containing  the  ac- 
count, as  it  is  the  only  way  we  have  of  learning  about 
these  things,  for  our  leaders  let  us  know  as  little  as 
possible.  We  waited  the  next  day  till  noon  in  anx- 
ious expectation  of  an  order  to  move  forward,  but  it 
did  not  come  and  shortly  after  our  troops  began  to 
move  back  towards  Baton  Rouge  and  soon  the  whole 
column  was  falling  back.  Everybody  was  disap- 
pointed. We  had  expected  to  see  the  downfall  of  the 
rebel  stronghold,  which  had  been  the  subject  of  our 
thoughts  ever  since  we  came  here,  and  there  were 
many  sour  looks  and  words  of  dissatisfaction.  It  had 
a  bad  effect  on  the  men  and  looked  marvelously  like 
a  retreat.  But  it  seems  it  was  all  right ;  it  was  only 
a  movement  to  cover  others.  Our  marches  before 
this  had  been  pretty  hard,  but  they  were  perfect  sport 
compared  with  this.  The  march  and  the  right  fol- 
lowing, (last  night,)  I  confess  I  have  not  the  power  to 
describe.  Soon  after  we  started  it  commenced  to  rain 
and  soon  poured  torrents,  accompanied  by  heavy  thun- 
der and  vivid  lightning.  The  road,  before  hard  and 
smooth,  became  ankle  deep  with  mud  and  water, 
overcoats  and  blankets  became  wet  and  heavy,  knap- 
sacks were  soaked  through  and  ammunition  ruined,  and 
guns  and  cartridge  boxes  thrown  away,  and  hundreds 
of  men  fell  out  by  the  way,  unable  to  bear  it.  From 
our  company,  however,  no  one  straggled,  nor  do  I 
know  of  a  single  gun  being  thrown  away  in  the  regj- 


72  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

ment.  I  am  well  satisfied  with  the  25th,  especially 
with  Company  A.  So  we  marched  till  nearly  dark, 
when  we  halted  and  filed  into  another  muddy  lot  and 
stacked  arms  for  the  night,  and  a  dismal  prospect 
it  was.  No  place  to  sleep  and  mud  and  water  to  stand 
in,  the  rain  continuing  to  pour  down  in  sheets.  Around 
this  field  there  was  a  fence  six  feet  high.  In  ten 
minutes  there  was  not  a  sign  of  a  fence.  Soon  we 
had  a  huge  fire  blazing,  which  was  some  comfort  to 
us.  Around  this  we  stood  and  sat  and  waited  for 
morning.  Some  too  tired  to  set  up  lay  down  in  the 
mud,  or  on  rails,  or  whatever  they  could  find.  As  for 
myself  I  sat  down  on  a  rail  and  with  my  head  on  my 
knees  would  sleep  till  chilled  through  and  then  go  to 
the  fire  and  get  warm.  Thus  sitting  and  standing  in 
the  deep  mud  and  soaked  to  the  skin,  we  spent  the 
night.  Our  quarter-master*  rode  into  town  and  back, 
sixteen  miles,  to  get  us  coffee  and  sugar,  which  helped 
us  somewhat.  About  ten  it  stopped  raining  except  in 
little  showers,  but  altogether  we  had  a  most  dismal 
time. 

This  morning  we  are  gradually  drying  out  and  re- 
covering our  spirits.  The  sun  has  come  out  and  every- 
thing is  prosperous.  We  shall  probably  march  soon, 
but  whether  back  into  town  or  somewhere  else  no  one 
knows. 

Tuesday,  March  17th. 

Again  we  have  moved.  About  3  P.  M.  yesterday 
we  packed  up  and  leaving  our  mud-hole  by  as  hot  a 
march  as  ever  I  wish  to  see,  reached  our  present  po- 
sition which  is  a  short  distance  Avest  of  our  old  one. 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  73 

and  the  change  is  marvellous.  A  more  beautiful  spot 
I  have  seldom  seen.  Our  whole  regiment  and  the 
second  are  encamped  in  a  large  and  comparatively  dry 
field  on  the  river  bank ;  water  and  wood  are  plenty. 
The  air  is  dry  and  warm  and  the  view  up  and  down 
the  river  is  magnificent.  We  have  plenty  of  fresh 
meat,  and  provisions  have  come  out  from  town.  All 
the  men  are  in  capital  spirits,  everything  looks  well. 
Such  is  a  soldier's  life.  One  day  in  the  greatest 
misery  and  the  next  in  the  tallest  kind  of  clover. 
One  day  nearly  starved  and  the  next  living  like 
princes.  We  should  not  enjoy  the  smooth  of  this  life 
if  it  was  not  for  an  occasional  rough  place.  I  shall 
endeavor  to  send  this  to  Baton  Rouge  to-day.  I 
received  your  last  with  papers.  I  have  just  a  chance 
to  send  my  letter.  Good  bye.  All's  well. 
Yours,  with  love, 

D.  P.  D. 

» 

BATON  ROUGE,  March  24th. 
DEAR  MOTHER: 

Well,  here  we  are  back  again  on  our  old  company 
ground,  with  no  fighting  done  yet.  Monday  afternoon 
orders  came  to  the  division  to  fall  back  and  they  did, 
and  here  we  are.  They  say  that  great  ends  have  been 
accomplished  by  our  late  movement,  (reconnoisance, 
they  call  it,)  and  it  may  be  so,  but  I  think  it  is  bad 
policy  to  say  the  least,  to  disappoint  men  so,  and  I 
don't  believe  Gen.  Banks  will  ever  have  an  army  so 
ready  and  so  willing  to  fight  again  ;  nevertheless,  if 
our  force  was  not  large  enough  to  take  Port  Hudson, 
7 


74  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

it  was  undoubtedly  better  to  fall  back  than  to  attempt 
the  matter  and  to  lose  after  all.  But  we  are  soldiers ; 
we  only  receive  orders  and  obey  them  unquestioningly. 
I  am  willing  to  trust  our  general  still  and  believe  that 
all  will  come  right  in  the  end. 

Now  about  the  march  back  on  the  said  Monday 
morning.  When  we  were  encamped  by  the  river  and 
before  I  knew  anything  about  moving,  I  obtained 
leave  to  go  into  town,  some  seven  miles.  So  after 
much  trouble  I  procured  a  "  skittish"  little  pony  and 
proceeded  to  exhibit  my  equestrian  ability  to  the  ad- 
miring multitudes,  succeeding  so  admirably  that  I  only 
got  thrown  once.  But  my  pluck  was  good  and  I 
made  good  time  into  town.  Having  transacted  my 
business  I  started  again  for  camp,  but  no  sooner  had  I 
left  the  city  than  I  was  surprised  to  see  all  the  road 
full  of  troops  and  baggage  wagons,  all  on  the  march 
for  town.  This  was  the  first  intimation  I  had  of  the 
movement.  As  I  saw  no  signs  of  Grover's  Division, 
(the  fourth,)  I  kept  on,  but  went  no  farther  than  the 
bridge,  the  one  previously  built  by  our  regiment,  for 
which  by  the  way  we  received  the  greatest  commenda- 
tion from  General  Banks.  This  was  about  five  miles 
from  town  and  here  I  learned  that  our  division  was 
coming,  so  I  waited  for  them.  I  wish  you  could  have 
stood  by  my  sido  on  the  little  hill  where  I  was  and 
seen  the  troops  go  by,  you  would  have  some  idea  of 
an  army  on  the  march.  I  will  describe  it  as  well  as 
I  can. 

First  came  a  detachment  of  cavalry,  clanking  and  clat- 
tering along ;  a  cavalryman  in  his  full  equipment  makes 


DANIEL    PERKINS   DEWEY.  75 

as  much  noise  as  a  small  truck  wagon.  Then  Gen.  Gro- 
ver's  Staff  and  red  flag  with  a  4  upon  it,  the  number  of 
his  division.  After  him  another  body  of  cavalry.  Then 
the  artillery  of  the  13th  regiment.  As  they  reached  the 
top  of  the  hill  on  the  hither  side  of  the  bridge  the 
bugle  sounded  "  halt."  Now  the  first  ammunition 
wagon  starts  slowly  down  the  hill,  gradually  growing 
faster  and  faster  till  it  thunders  over  the  bridge  and 
up  the  hill  on  the  other  side,  horses  on  the  dead  run. 
Next  comes  the  first  gun,  then  the  next  ammunition 
wagon  and  next  gun,  and  so  on  till  all  the  six  guns 
of  the  battery  have  passed.  They  are  followed  by 
the  brigadier  and  his  staff,  with  a  white  and  blue 
flag  and  the  number  of  his  brigade  upon  it.  Then 
comes  the  infantry  plodding  and  toiling  along,  caps 
thrown  back  to  catch  every  breath  of  wind  on 
their  brows  ;  some  have  taken  off  their  shoes  and 
are  going  with  bare  feet,  some  have  rolled  up  their 
pants — anything  to  be  cool.  Occasionally  one  tired 
out  by  the  pull  up  the  hill  drops  out,  and  seating  him- 
self by  the  roadside,  looks  sorrowfully  at  his  compan- 
ions heedlessly  tramping  by  him.  Along  with  these, 
contrabands  and  servants  of  all  kinds,  this  officer's 
baggage  or  that  man's  knapsack,  altogether  it  has 
rather  a  disorderly  appearance,  and  so  three  or  four 
regiments  pass  along  and  are  followed  by  the  second 
brigade  in  the  same  order,  cavalry,  artillery,  infantry, 
and  lastly  the  third  brigade  comes  up  and  I  join  the 
company  again,  having  willingly  given  up  my  steed  to 
his  owner.  But  before  leaving  the  march  you  must 
fill  up  the  picture  by  imagining  a  long  line  of  white 


76  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

canvass  covered  baggage  wagons  with  noisy  and  pro- 
fane drivers  in  front  of  the  division,  and  another  line 
of  ambulances  in  the  rear  to  pick  up  all  the  stragglers. 
And  so  this  snake-like  procession  moves  slowly  along, 
and  the  rattling  of  wagons,  the  curses  of  drivers,  the 
clatter  of  cavalry,  and  the  thunder  of  artillery,  the 
issuing  of  orders  and  the  shouts,  songs  and  laughter 
of  the  men,  make  up  rather  a  stirring  scene.  This 
may  give  you  some  idea  of  it,  but  it  must  be  seen  to 
be  appreciated.  My  first  inquiry  on  reaching  the 
25th  was  about  my  baggage  which  was  left  at  camp. 
It  had  been  packed  and  placed  upon  a  steamboat  to 
go  to  Baton  Rouge  by  water,  so  I  supposed  it  must  be 
safe,  but  alas  !  I  have  seen  nothing  of  it  and  I  don't 
believe  I  shall.  I  have  lost  overcoat,  rubber  blanket, 
stockings,  dishes,  everything  I  took  with  me  on  the 
march  except  my  sword,  which  has  since  made  its  ap- 
pearance, for  which  I  am  very  thankful  as  it  was  only 
borrowed.  I  am  troubled  exceedingly  to  know  where 
to  get  one  as  I  have  tried  everywhere  in  vain. 

March  27th. 

To-day  we  start  for  the  south  part  of  the  state  to 
assist  General  Weitzel.  "We  are  all  packing  up  and 
have  orders  to  start  immediately. 

****** 
I  have  my  own  packing  to  attend  to,  so  I  must  be 
brief.     My  love  to  all,  and  be  assured  of  my  continued 

affection. 

Your  loving  son, 

D.  P.  DEWEY. 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  77 

DONALDSONVILLE,  March  30th,  1863. 
DEAR  MOTHER  : 

We  have  changed  our  position  to  this  place,  fifty 
miles  below  Baton  Rouge,  on  the  west  side  of  the 
river.  We  shall  probably  leave  for  the  interior  to- 
night or  to-morrow  morning.  Our  next  stopping  place 
will  probably  be  Thebodeaux  on  the  Atchafalaya,  a 
river ;  wherever  it  is  I  will  write  you  when  we  reach 
there.  Letters  and  papers  directed  as  before  to  Don- 
aldson ville,  which  is  one  of  the  chief  towns  in  Louis- 
iana, but  it  is  a  mean  looking  place  at  the  best.  The 
houses  are  all  small  and  poor,  the  stores  mere  huck- 
ster's stalls.  The  inhabitants  are  mostly  French,  the 
slaves  fewer  than  I  have  seen  in  any  place  I  have 
seen  yet ;  in  fact,  the  sooner  we  are  out  of  it  the  bet- 
ter I  shall  like  it.  The  place  is  fortified  by  a  small 
earthwork  called  Fort  Butler.  There  was  a  battle 
here  last  year  as  perhaps  you  may  remember.  There 
is  one  redeeming  point  about  it  and  that  is  it  has  some 
pretty  girls  within  its  borders.  I  saw  a  young  lady 
yesterday,  for  the  first  time  since  I  left  the  North,  who 
really  excited  my  admiration. 

It  is  rather  cool  to-day  for  this  climate  ;  a  "  Norther" 
is  sweeping  over  the  country,  and  the  clouds  look  as 
if  the  next  march  would  be  in  the  wet.  I  hope  not, 
although  I've  no  objections  to  cooler  weather.  The 
boat  leaves  in  a  few  minutes,  so  I  have  only  time  for  this 
hasty  letter.  I  will  do  better  next  time.  Love  to  all. 
Your  loving  son, 

D.  P.  DEWEY. 

7« 


78  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

BAYOU  BOEUF.,  LA.,  April  3d. 
DEAR  MOTHER: 

At  length  we  have  brought  up  for  a  short  time 
away  here  in  the  central  part  of  the  state,  after  a 
inarch  of  three  days  and  a  night  in  the  cars.  I  am 
surprised  at  the  country  we  are  in  ;  I  had  looked  upon 
it  in  imagination  as  almost  a  wilderness,  but  instead  it 
is  the  garden  of  Louisiana.  The  best  and  the  largest 
plantations,  both  cotton  and  sugar,  are  here.  The 
country  is  cut  up  by  innumerable  bayous  and  lakes, 
which  are  many  of  them  navigable  to  the  largest  ves- 
sels. The  vegetation  is  the  most  luxuriant  I  ever 
saw.  The  woods  are  dense  and  filled  with  all  manner 
of  trees  and  shrubs,  creepers  and  climbers.  The 
swamps  are  the  most  impassable  looking  arrangements 
imaginable.  No  wonder  runaway  slaves  take  to  them, 
the  most  expert  hunter  could  hardly  find  them.  The 
water  is  still  and  black  with  stumps  and  logs  decaying 
in  it.  In  summer  weather  some  of  these  logs  prove  to 
be  alligators.  The  trees  are  tall  and  dark  and  covered 
with  pendant  moss,  giving  them  a  most  ghost-like  ap- 
pearance. In  clumps  below  are  all  manner  of  rank, 
large,  broad-leaved,  brilliant  flowered  plants.  The 
greatest  stillness  and  darkness  hang  over  everything. 
The  best  word  to  describe  it  is  "  pokerish."  However, 
like  all  other  things,  it  must  be  seen  to  be  appreciated, 
and  perhaps  some  day  you  may  take  a  fancy  to  travel 
this  way  and  then  you  can  judge  for  yourself.  We 
have  done  some  grand  marching.  "We  were  three 
days  on  the  road.  On  the  first  we  started  from  Don- 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  79 

aldsonville,  our  direction  being  westward  up  the  Bayou 
Lafouiche.  The  day  was  fortunately  cool,  but  the 
men  I  think  suffered  more  this  day  than  all  the  rest. 
Our  marching  was  rapid,  and  the  road  a  hard  baked 
clay  with  no  spring  in  it,  which  used  up  our  feet  woe- 
fully, and  great  was  the  rejoicing  when  we  halted  and 
went  into  camp,  about  half-past  one.  Then  followed 
the  scene  which  always  follows  the  halting  of  an  army. 
The  ranks  are  broken  and  the  arms  are  stacked,  when 
numerous  gallant  defenders  of  their  country's  rights 
strike  a  double  quick  for  the  nearest  fence  and  soon  are 
seen  returning  with  what  used  to  be  a  fence  but  is  now 
transformed  into  wonderfully  good  fire-wood  or  elas- 
tic couches  for  the  aforesaid  gallant  defenders.  At 
the  same  time  numerous  squeals  in  the  adjacent  field 
announce  the  demise  of  sundry  innocent  porkers,  or  a 
shot  or  two  tell  of  fresh  beef  for  the  morrow.  Con- 
trabands may  be  seen  coming  in  with  a  chicken  in  one 
hand  and  corn  bread  or  some  other  edible  in  the  other. 
On  the  night  in  question,  a  flock  of  sheep  came  trot- 
ting innocently  into  camp  with  wonder  depicted  on 
their  countenances,  which  expression  soon  changed  to 
terror  as  they  scattered  in  all  directions,  pursued  by 
sticks  and  stones  and  bayonets  and  shouting  heroes. 
In  less  than  five  minutes  there  was  not  a  single  sheep 
alive.  Company  A  secured  two  and  mutton  was  our 
breakfast  next  morning.  Soon  fires  are  blazing  in  all 
directions,  black  camp  kettles  are  hung  and  coffee 
made.  Some  of  the  men  go  for  water,  otheK,  uuild 
their  shelters  for  the  night,  while  slowly  limping  along 
the  stragglers  come  in  and  sink  down  wearily  into 
their  places.  Guards  are  soon  mounted  and  order 


80  A    MEMORIAL   OF 

reigns  again.     This  night  I  was  officer  of  the  guard, 
tired  and  weary  as  I  was,  and  to  add  to  my  afflictions 
an  ugly  mule  hit  me  a  kick  in  the  hip  as  I  was  pass- 
ing him.     I  dare  say  I  thought   something   wicked 
though  I  did  not  say  it.     Our  camp  was  at  a  small 
village,  the  only  name  for  which  that  I  could  discover 
was  "  Church."     A  church  being  such  a  rare  institu- 
tion in  this  heathen  land  as  to  serve  for  a  landmark. 
We  started  next  morning  about  half-past  seven  and 
marched  about  the  same  distance  as  before,  passing 
through    the    village   of  Napoleonville   and    camping 
about  a  mile  east  of  another  town  called  Labordier- 
ville,  near  which  our  forces   had  a  brush   last  year 
with  the  enemy.     Several  balls  and  shells  were  found 
on  the  ground.     I  was  obliged  to  ride  the  last  two 
miles  on  account  of  my  hip  which  was  rather  lame. 
The  next  day  we  were  on  the  march  at  sunrise,  our 
brigade   having  the  advance,  and   expecting  to  go  to 
Thebodauxville  and  there  camp ;  but  we  reached  the 
place,  the  most  enterprising  place  I  have  seen,  marched 
through  it  and  about  five  miles  beyond,  and  I  assure 
you  these  were   five  long  miles.     We  had  made  up 
our  minds  that  we  were  to  stop  at  Thebodeaux,  and 
our  courage  flagged  when  we  went  beyond,  especially 
as  we  made  a  long  stretch  of  five  miles  at  a  swinging 
old  pace.     The  13th  Connecticut  has  a  tremendous 
reputation  for  marching,  but  I  think  their  stragglers 
rather  exceeded  ours  in  number  on  that  tramp.     We 
halted  about  half  a  mile  beyond  the  railroad  station 
and  prepared  for  the  night,  but  we  were  not  allowed 
to  escape  so  easily.     Soon  orders  came  to  be  ready  to 
move  again  and  at  nightfall  we  had  trudged  back  to 


DANIEL    PERKINS    DEWEY.  81 

the  cars,  loaded  all  our  baggage,  and  then  piled  in 
ourselves,  some  inside  and  some  on  the  top,  I  occupy- 
ing an  outside  seat  to  my  intense  disgust,  as  the  cin- 
ders flew  enough  to  blind  me.  At  nine  the  train, 
the  longest  and  heaviest  I  ever  saw,  started,  and  at  11 
P.  M.  reached  this  place  Avhere  we  unloaded  ourselves 
and  made  our  camp  after  a  march  of  fifteen  miles  and 
a  ride  of  twenty-five.  So  here  we  are  now  under  the 
command  of  Gen.  Weitzel,  who  left  this  place  ju?t  be- 
fore we  arrived.  The  12th  Conn,  is  in  his  division, 
and  one  company  (A)  of  it  was  captured  on  board  the 
steamer  Diana  in  a  skirmish  at  Pattersonville,  a  short 
distance  from  here  on  the  Bayou.  They  were  all 
paroled  and  I  have  found  an  acquaintance  amongst 
them,  Charles  Sherman,  formerly  of  the  Courant 
office.  The  rest  of  the  12th  has  gone  with  Gen. 
Weitzel  to  Brashear  city,  about  seven  miles  west  of 
here,  where  we  .may  probably  go  next.  We  shall 
probably  be  in  this  country  sometime,  and  I  do  not 
know  that  I  object  to  it.  A  railroad  runs  direct  to 
Algiers,  opposite  New  Orleans,  so  that  mail  and  ex- 
press connection  is  good.  The  country  is  rich  and  so 
far  as  I  can  learn,  healthful ;  what  do  we  want  more  ? 
The  25th  is  all  right ;  they  have  not  had  the  terrible  sick- 
ness that  you  have  heard  of.  Company  A.  is  all  right. 
We  may  have  a  scrimmage  as  Weitzel  is  one  of  the 
fighting  sort.  Please  remember  me  to  all  my  friends, 
and  when  you  write  direct  as  before.  With  much  love 
to  you  and  all, 

Your  affectionate  son, 

D.  P.  LKWEY. 


82  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

The  following  letter  of  Perkins,  written  only 
ten  days  before  his  death,  to  a  favorite  little 
cousin,  breathes  so  much  of  the  tenderness  of 
an  elder  brother,  while  at  the  same  time  we  arc 
reminded  of  the  sportiveness  of  boyhood,  that 
it  must  interest  the  reader. 

BAYOU  BOEUF.,  LA.,  April  4th,  '63. 

MY   DEAR    LITTLE    COUSIN  : 

I  have  heard  from  you  frequently  but  have  not  been 
able  to  return  the  favor  until  now.  We  have  lately 
been  marching  and  moving  all  around  the  country 
and  sleeping  on  the  ground  without  tents  at  night, 
some  of  them  pretty  cold  nights,  although  the  days 
are  hot  as  'lection.  But  now  we  have  our  tents  all 
pitched  again  and  it  looks  as  if  we  should  be  here  for 
some  time  ;  I  hope  so,  for  we  all  need  rest.  March- 
ing through  the  hot  sun,  over  dusty  roads,  with  salt 
pork  and  "  hard  tack"  to  eat  and  muddy  water  to 
drink,  is  very  good  for  a  little  while,  but  it  soon  "  plays 
out." 

This  is  a  beautiful  country  where  we  are  now.  The 
woods  are  full  of  wild  roses  and  all  kinds  of  beautiful 
flowers.  Pretty  little  lizards  of  all  colors  play  around 
the  stumps  and  logs.  Sweet  little  snakes  and  big  ones 
too,  come  out  to  sun  themselves  or  amuse  themselves 
by  running  races  over  your  neck  in  the  night.  Cun- 
ning little  alligators  live  in  all  the  swamps  and  listen 
to  the  music  of  the  fine-voiced  musquitoes.  I  caught 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  83 

tliree  crabs  the  other  day  by  holding  my  foot  in  the 
water  till  they  bit,  when  I  threw  them  upon  shore ! 
You  may  believe  this  if  you  want  to,  but  I  should  not 
if  I  were  you. 

If  I  was  in  Hartford  I  would  come  down  to  New 
Haven  to-morrow  and  see  you  and  bring  you  a  lot  of 

nice  things.  We'd  go  and  see  Mrs. ,  and  walk 

home  through  Chapel  street,  or  else  as  it's  Sunday, 
Easter  Sunday,  too,  we  would  go  to  church  and  not 
sit  with  the  girls.  But  it's  no  use  to  talk  so.  Here  I 
am  away  down  in  the  Louisiana  lowlands,  hundreds  of 
miles  from  my  little  Cousin  Julia  whom  I  shall  not 
see  for  a  long  time.  You  must  send  me  one  of  your 
photographs  sure,  so  that  I  can  see  how  you  look.  I 
suppose  you  must  have  grown  a  great  deal  since  I 
left  home.  It  seems  a  long  while  to  me. 

Now  for  a  little  serious  talk  with  you.  You  must 
be  a  good  girl  and  learn  all  you  can.  By-and-by  when 
you  get  older,  you  will  be  glad  if  you  do  and  sorry  if 
you  don't.  You  must  love  your  mother  and  my 
mother  and  Fannie.  I  think  a  great  deal  more  about 
them  now  that  I  am  separated  from  them  and  perhaps 
I  shall  never  see  them  again  at  all.  You  will  soon  be 
old  enough  to  be  of  use  to  them  and  you  [must  learn 
all  you  can  and  be  as  useful  as  you  can. 

You  ask  me  if  I  have  any  higher  office.  Well, 
yes,  I  have  gone  a  little  higher,  I'm  Second  Lieutenant 
of  Company  A  ;  so  when  you  write  you  must  direct 
to  Lieut.  Dewey  and  not  to  Sergeant  Dewey.  There 
isn't  any  such  man  now,  he  is  "  played  out."  I  expect 
to  be  brigadier-general,  or  some  such  thing  before  I 


81  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

come  home  ;  so  you  must  get  all  fixed  to  give  me  a 
grand  reception. 

Well,  I  have  come  to  the  end  of  my  paper  and 
ideas,  and  there  is  nothing  left  but  to  send  my  love  to 
all  the  girls  and  a  large  share  to  yourself. 
Good  bye, 

Your  loving  cousin, 

D.  P.  DEWEY. 

TRANSPORT  ST.  MART,  April  llth. 

10  P.  M.     DEAR  MOTHER: 

Again  we  are  crowded,  jammed,  jostled  and  suffo- 
cated on  one  of  Uncle  Sam's  transports.  For  the  last 
three  hours  I  have  tossed  and  turned  and  suffered  and 
thought  wicked,  if  I  did  not  say  it.  In  the  top  berth 
in  a  close  state  room,  breathing  air  second  hand  from 
the  lungs  of  a  crowded  cabin.  I  have  given  it  up  and 
am  beaten,  and  can  not  sleep,  so  I  have  retired  to  the 
depths  of  a  lower  cabin  and  on  the  dining  table  by 
the  light  of  an  oil  lamp  I  am  writing  to  you.  I  am 
wet  to  the  skin  with  perspiration.  Fine  condition  I 
shall  be  in  for  the  fight  we  are  going  to  have  to  mor- 
row. It  is  abominable  the  way  they  cram  these  trans- 
ports. The  St.  Mary  is  a  fine  large  steamship,  but 
just  imagine  it ;  there  are  four  regiments  squeezed 
into  her  besides  a  battery  of  artillery  and  from  fifty 
to  a  hundred  horses.  We  are  lying  off  Brashear  City 
at  the  head  of  Berwick  Bay,  expecting  soon  to  start 
for  up  river  somewhere  to  cut  the  retreat  of  the 
rebels.  A  strong  force  will  attack  them  in  front. 
They,  the  rebels,  are  at  Pattersonville,  where  the 


DANIEL    PERKINS  DEWEY.  85 

Diana  was  captured  by  them  and  strongly  entrenched. 
Heavy  firing  has  been  heard  in  that  direction  all  day, 
either  the  beginning  of  the  fight  or  artillery  practice. 
I  say  this  is  the  plan,  which  means  that  we  all  think 
so,  but  I  have  been  deceived  so  often  in  expectation 
that  in  the  future  I  will  be  certain  of  nothing  till  it  is 
over.  We  may  accomplish  no  more  on  this  trip  than 
we  did  at  Port  Hudson.  Our  movements  are  lament- 
ably slow  and  the  rebs  find  out  everything  before  we 
accomplish  anything.  However,  Banks  is  in  com- 
mand and  it  won't  do  for  him  to  remain  inactive  much 
longer.  So  I  think  there  is  work  for  us  somewhere. 
Just  as  we  were  leaving  camp  to-day  to  embark,  a  train 
came  in  from  New  Orleans,  which  brought  us  a  mail 
containing  a  letter  from  you  and  one  from  Fannie.  I 
wrote  you  last  from  Bayou  Boeuf,  which  place  we  left 
about  ten  on  Wednesday  the  ninth,  and  a  scorching 
day  it  was.  We  marched  in  the  middle  of  the  day 
some  ten  miles  to  Brashear  City — a  place  by  the  way 
not  half  as  large  as  West  Hartford  ;  and  to  the  credit 
of  the  25th  be  it  said,  it  had  fewer  men  fall  out  than 
any  other  regiment  in  the  division.  When  I  look  at 
this  I  am  half  a  mind  to  tear  it  up,  but  you  will  allow 
for  circumstances.  I  am  going  to  try  to  get  a  nap  on 
a  neighboring  lounge,  so  good  night. 

That  "  Good  night"  was  for  the  last  time  ; 
and  if  it  is  saddening  to  reflect  upon  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  it  was  written,  cir- 
cumstances which  we  think  ought  to  have  been 
seen  and  avoided,  there  is  a  consolation  in 
8 


86  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

knowing,  in  the  instance  of  this  young  patriot 
and  Christian,  that  it  was  almost  the  last  night 
of  "  weariness  and  painfulness"  that  ever  he 
would  be  called  to  endure.  The  sands  of  his 
glass  were  rapidly  running  out ;  the  hour  was 
coming  to  him  on  swift  wings, 

"  When  in  the  mansions  of  the  blest 
Death  leaves  to  its  eternal  rest, 
The  weary  soul." 

The  battle  to  which  he  was  looking  forward 
"  in  the  morning,"  at  the  time  of  his  writing  to 
his  mother  on  the  llth  of  April,  did  not  take 
place  till  the  morning  of  the  14th.  It  was 
some  days  after  the  event  that  tidings  came  of 
a  battle  and  a  victory  at  Irish  Bend,  and  while 
the  hearts  of  a  multitude  amongst  us  were  wa- 
vering most  painfully  between  hope  and  fear, 
for  the  dear  friends  whom  they  knew  must  have 
been  in  the  fatal  strife,  came  the  sad  "  List  of 
casualties,"  and  amongst  the  first  names  of  the 
fallen  stood  the  name  of  "  Lieutenant  D.  P. 
Dewey ! "  The  particulars  of  his  heroic  death 
soon  followed,  and  they  might  well  constitute 
a  page  in  that  history  which  hereafter  shall 
be  written, — a  page  in  which  the  young  soldier 
who  went  forth  with  the  single  thought  of 
"  DUTY"  as  his  watchword,  until  he  stood  face  to 
face  with  death  in  deadly  conflict,  unflinching, 


DANIEL    PERKINS    DEWEY.  87 

firm,  serene — might  be  placed  side  by  side  with 
that  which  tells  the  story  of  the  dying  martyr, 
who  bowed  before  the  stern  king  of  terrors  in 
holy  calmness  and  humility,  rather  than  desert 
the  standard  of  his  Christian  faith  \f 

The  first  letter  which  brought  the  fatal  news 
that  this  brave  young  soldier  had  fallen,  was 
written  to  his  parents  by  Lieut.  Leander  Water- 
man, of  his  company. 

It  becomes  my  painful  duty  to  communicate  to  you 
the  intelligence  of  your  son's  death.  We  embarked 
on  transports  Saturday  evening.  Sunday  we  started 
up  Grand  Lake,  Monday  landed,  went  two  or  three 
miles  and  lay  on  our  arms  on  the  ground  that  night. 
Tuesday  morning  we  fell  in,  just  before  daybreak, 
went  about  a  mile,  when  the  five  companies  on  the 
right  wing  of  the  regiment  were  ordered  to  deploy. 
Company  A  had  the  right  as  usual ;  in  this  way  we 
advanced  quite  a  distance.  When  near  the  woods  we 
were  fired  upon  ;  we  lay  down,  firing  at  the  places 
where  we  saw  the  smoke  of  the  enemy.  The  right 
(five  companies)  was  a  short  distance  behind.  The 
battery  of  the  enemy  opened  upon  the  five  companies 
of  the  regiment  in  reserve.  In  about  half  an  hour 
the  regiment  was  ordered  to  advance.  They  passed 
the  line  of  skirmishers,  and  then  Company  A  formed 
on  the  right  of  the  regiment.  Before,  while  deployed, 
we  had  the  right  of  the  skirmishers.  We  were  the 
most  exposed  of  all.  We  had  formed  the  right  about 


88  A  MEMORIAL  OP 

five  minutes  when  I  was  struck  in  the  left  arm  near 
the  shoulder,  the  ball  passing  through  the  arm  and 
lodging  in  the  side.  I  stayed  until  I  was  so  faint  I 
could  not  support  myself,  and  was  then  helped  from 
the  field.  In  less  than  five  minutes  we  were  out- 
flanked on  the  right  and  had  to  fall  back.  Lieutenant 
Dewey  was  shot  in  the  head,  the  ball  striking  the  left 
side  just  above  the  ear,  and  passing  out  at  the  fore- 
head. He  was  left  for  a  few  'moments  on  the  field, 
but  as  the  enemy  were  driven  back,  (less  than  five 
minutes,)  I  sent  a  stretcher  and  had  him  brought  in. 
He  was  found  just  as  some  of  the  men  saw  him  fall. 
He  had  not  been  molested  by  the  enemy.  He  was 
unconscious,  moved  his  head  and  his  hands  for  a  short 
time,  and  then  died.  I  was  not  able  to  be  about,  but 
I  left  him  in  the  hands  of  good  men.  A  coffin  was 
made  for  him,  also  one  for  Captain  Hayden  of  Com- 
pany C,  who  was  shot  through  the  head.  They  were 
buried  side  by  side,  Wednesday  morning,  and  the 
place  marked.  *  *  *  * 

He  died  a  hero,  the  best  could  do  no  more.  I  trust 
he  now  wears  an  immortal  crown,  which  will  never 
fade. 

Our  regiment  lost  from  eighty  to  ninety,  killed  and 
wounded. 

I  am  not  able  to  write  more  now.     I  am  at  St. 
John's  hospital,  doing  well  but  weak. 
Yours,  with  much  sympathy, 

LEANDER  WATERMAN, 
Lieut.  Company  A,  25th  regiment. 


DANIEL    PEEKINS   DEWEY.  89 

The  following  beautiful  tribute  to  Lieutenant 
Dewey's  character  is  from  the  pen  of  his  friend 
Col.  Ward.* 

My  friend  Dewey  joined  Company  A,  25th  Regi- 
ment Conn.  Vols.,  on  the  9th  of  September,  1862. 
His  general  acquirements  and  reliable  character  soon 
marked  him  for  advancement ;  he  was  almost  imme- 
diately made  a  corporal,  and  subsequently,  by  the 
personal  selection  of  the  colonel,  right  general  guide 
of  the  regiment  with  the  rank  of  sergeant. 

It  was  at  this  time  my  more  intimate  acquaintance 
with  him  began.  Our  places  in  line  and  column  were 
very  near  each  other ;  we  occupied  the  same  tent  and 
slept  side  by  side.  Long  before  we  reached  Louisiana 
I  had  learned  to  love  him,  to  honor  his  singularly 
truthful  nature,  and  to  look  with  confident  certainty 
to  the  day  when  he  should  earn  and  receive  his  com- 
mission. 

When  the  regiment  landed  in  the  enemy's  country 
he  volunteered  to  go  on  the  first  picket  duty  which 
offered,  and  with  a  squad  of  picked  men  under  his 
command,  held,  through  our  first  night  of  service,  the 
most  advanced  position  of  the  whole  army. 

During  our  stay  at  Baton  Rouge,  his  services  as 
regimental  guide  were  of  high  order,  his  habits  of  out- 
door exercise,  and  accuracy  of  eye,  especially  quali- 
fying him  for  the  position. 

My  promotion,  in  January,  1863,  somewhat  inter- 
rupted the  daily  intercourse  between  us  ;  it  was  how- 

*  Formerly  Adjutant  of  the  25th  Regiment. 

8* 


90  A  MEMORIAL  OF 

ever  soon  followed  by  his  own  lieutenancy,  and  seven 
days  before  the  regiment  started  on  its  first  march 
upon  Port  Hudson,  I  had  the  gratification  of  seeing  on 
his  shoulders  the  straps  which  no  one  ever  wore  more 
worthily. 

From  the  10th  of  March  we  were  continuously  in 
the  field,  and  his  value  as  an  officer  was  more  and 
more  apparent.  With  the  exception  of  a  short  illness 
he  was  always  on  duty,  and  (as  regimental  adjutant 
I  have  reason  to  know  it)  whenever  a  man  of  relia- 
bility and  quick  intelligence  was  needed,  his  name 
naturally  suggested  itself  for  the  employment. 

On  the  13th  of  April,  1863,  we  landed  on  the  west 
coast  of  Grand  Lake,  and,  the  enemy  being  driven 
before  us,  marched  toward  Irish  Bend.  I  did  not 
see  him  during  that  march  or  in  the  night's  bivouac  ; 
we  next  met  under  fire  on  the  14th. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  attempt  a  description  of  the 
battle  of  that  day.  Dewe^'s  company  was  the  first 
engaged,  his  only  superior  officer  soon  wounded,  and 
this  second  lieutenant  of  scarcely  a  month's  standing 
was  left  in  command  of  the  flank  company  of  the 
whole  brigade  engaged.  How  nobly  and  bravely  he 
met  the  responsibilities  of  that  hour  his  glorious  death 
bears  witness.  Standing  unmoved  in  a  rain  of  bul- 
lets, he  had  a  word  of  encouragement  for  every  man 
near  him,  kindly  greeting  for  a  friend  and  even  a 
merry  quotation  from  a  favorite  song  to  fling  after  a 
shell  that  went  shrieking  by.  So  I  last  saw  him — so 
I  shall  always  remember  him. 

Were  I  asked  what  traits  of  Dewey's  character 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  91 

most  impressed  me,  I  should  reply,  his  truthfulness 
and  evenness  of  temper.  More  quiet  and  sober  in 
his  manner  than  most  men — especially  most  soldiers 
of  his  age,  he  varied  less  from  day  to  day  than  any  of 
us.  Easily  gay,  he  was  never  boisterous  ;  quietly  kind 
he  was  never  demonstrative.  His  habits  of  study 
were  an  example  to  many  older  officers.  His  pro- 
fessional knowledge  great  and  rapidly  growing ;  few 
gave  greater  promise  of  usefulness,  no  one  is  more 
grieved  for  by  all  who  knew  him. 

HENRY  C.  WARD. 

Letter  from  Adjutant  Ward  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Dewey. 

BIVOUAC  OF  THE  28TH  REGT.  CONN.  VOLS., 
NEAR  VERMILLIONSVILLE,  APRIL  16,  '63. 

On  the  day  the  regiment  left  Hartford,  you  prob- 
ably remember  you  spoke  to  me  regarding  the  welfare 
of  your  noble  son.  That  conversation  and  the  warm 
love  I  have  learned  to  feel  for  him  seem  to  make  it 
my  province  to  write  to  you  some  account  of  his  glo- 
rious death,  which  I  take  occasion  to  do  to-day ;  the 
first  halt  we  have  made  in  pursuit  of  the  flying  enemy 
whom  he  gave  his  life  to  conquer. 

Before  receiving  this  you  will  probably  have  heard 
of  our  victory  and  of  his  fall.  The  papers  will  have 
told  you  all  they  could  ;  but  an  eye  witness  alone 
could  tell  you  the  particulars  of  his  bravery  and  dar- 
ing, which  your  loss  must  make  doubly  important. 
Early  in  the  fight,  Lieutenant  Waterman  being 
wounded,  your  son  succeeded  to  the  command  of  Com- 


92  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

pany  A.  The  whole  regiment  line  was  deployed  as 
skirmishers,  when  the  right  flank  was  suddenly  at- 
tacked by  two  full  regiments  of  the  enemy,  the  15th 
Louisiana  and  a  Texas  regiment.  It  was  at  that 
time  that  I  saw  your  son,  and  the  sight  I  never  shall 
forget.  Waving  his  sword  above  his  head,  calling  to 
his  men,  "  Remember  you  are  Company  A" — his  whole 
bearing  so  brave  and  heroic  that  it  seemed  almost  im- 
possible for  any  enemy  to  avoid  marking  him.  He 
was  soon  fatally  struck  and  fell  headlong  amongst  the 
cane  rows  where  he  fought.  This  was  about  7.50 
on  the  morning  of  the  14th.  He  was,  I  think,  en- 
tirely insensible  till  his  death,  which  was  as  well  as 
I  could  judge  about  one,  P.  M.  I  did  not  see  him 
from  the  time  he  was  carried  off  the  field  till  about 
six  in  the  afternoon,  when  I  was  able  to  leave  the 
regiment,  but  I  gave  him  in  charge  to  a  most  estima- 
ble man,  S.  S.  Folwell  of  Company  A,  and  I  found 
that  everything  kind  and  considerate  had  been  done 
by  him  for  my  lost  friend.  His  body  had  been  washed 
and  decently  prepared  for  interment.  I  could  scarcely 
believe  he  was  more  than  asleep,  his  face  was  so  calm 
and  beautiful,  no  rigidity,  no  contortion,  but  every- 
thing at  peace  and  rest.  I  kissed  his  cold  lips  and 
never  saw  him  again.  We  marched  again  that  night, 
but  to-day  Folwell  has  come  up  and  given  the  particu- 
lars of  his  interment.  He  was  buried  on  the  morning 
of  the  15th,  on  a  little  knoll  sixty-five  paces  from  and 
behind  an  old  sugar  mill  on  the  battle-field.  He  is  in 
the  same  grave  with  Captain  Hayden,  the  former  on 
the  right,  your  son  on  the  left,  as  you  stand  at  the 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  93 

head  of  the  grave.  A  head-board  was  placed  above 
them  deeply  cut.  Nothing  further  could  have  been 
done.  What  few  valuables  and  relics  that  were  about 
him  I  have  saved  and  they  are  in  the  hands  of  Lieu- 
tenant Waterman  in  hospital  at  New  Orleans.  They 
are  principally  his  watch,  a  ring,  a  college  society 
badge*  and  some  buttons  from  his  vest.  I  enclose  a 
lock  of  his  hair,  which  I  cut  myself  from  his  head. 
I  don't  see  that  I  can  tell  you  more.  My  sorrow  to 
write  this  must  bow  before  yours,  when  you  receive  it, 
yet  I  must  claim  some  little  share  in  the  loss  you  have 
suffered  ;  some  little  pride  that  the  hero  who  has  gone, 
while  he  was  your  son,  he  was  my  friend. 
Yours,  sincerely, 

H.  C.  WARD,  Adjutant. 

This  last  letter,  although  written  before  the 
tribute  to  Lieutenant  Dewey's  character,  by 
Colonel  Ward,  seemed  so  connected  with  this 
which  follows,  that  we  place  it  next  in  ordeo, 

From  Mr.  Folwell. 

MRS.  DEWEY,  DEAR  MADAM  : 

Concerning  the  matter  of  which  you  spoke,  I  will 
endeavor  to  mention  some  of  the  prominent  charac- 
teristics which  drew  me  towards,  and  made  me  feel 
interested  in  Lieutenant  Dewey.  He  seemed  earnest 
in  his  avocation,  and  determined  to  excel  as  a  soldier  ; 

*  "B.  .B."  Trinity  College. 


91  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

ready  to  do  his  duty,  however  disagreeable  it  might 
be ;  was  pleasant  and  cheerful  to  all  around  him, 
notwithstanding  the  many  annoyances  and  aggrava- 
tions which  attend  a  soldier's  life.  Evidently  a  deep 
thinker  and  great  reader,  much  of  his  leisure  time 
being  spent  in  reading  and  meditation.  These  are 
some  of  the  qualities  for  which  I  admired  him,  but 
most  because  I  believed  him  to  be  a  Christian.  Not 
perfect,  of  course,  for  we  none  of  us  attain  to  perfec- 
tion here,  but  showing  by  his  life  that  he  was  gov- 
erned by  high  moral  principles, — actuated  by  a  desire 
to  do  right,  from  a  love  of  right,  rather  than  merely 
to  please.  Never  engaging  in  those  vices  which  per- 
vade the  camp,  or  stooping  to  that  which  was  low  or 
dishonorable,  by  which  so  many  degrade  themselves, 
because  separated  from  near  friends  and  home  influ- 
ences. I  believe  he  would  indulge  in  nothing  in  camp 
that  he  would  not  do  among  his  friends  in  Hartford. 
He  was  fond  of  singing,  and  I  remember  as  we  were 
sailing  up  the  lake  on  board  the  St.  Mary,  on  the 
second  evening  before  the  battle,  a  number  of  us  who 
were  in  the  habit  of  singing  together,  collected  to 
have  a  social  sing.  Dewey  was  in  his  state  room,  hav- 
ing complained  all  day  of  not  feeling  well,  but  there 
were  loud  calls  for  him  to  come  and  sing ;  he  soon 
made  his  appearance,  and  tried  to  excuse  himself,  but 
after  some  urging  yielded,  and  sat  down  among  us,  on 
the  deck  and  joined  with  us,  soon  becoming  very  much 
animated,  more  than  usual,  seeming  to  enjoy  it  greatly, 
making  some  such  remark  as  this :  "  he  believed  it 


DANIEL  PERKINS   DEWEY.  95 

was  better  for  him  than  medicine."  Alas  !  how  little 
he  thought  it  would  be  the  last  time  we  should  ever 
sing  together  in  this  world. 

On  the  morning  of  the  battle,  the  first  I  remember 
distinctly  about  him  was  after  Lieutenant  Waterman 
received  his  wound,  at  which  time  Dewey  was  trying 
to  fasten  a  tourniquet  upon  the  arm.  As  I  came  up 
he  left  it  with  me  to  finish,  he  taking  command  of  the 
company.  Waterman  being  disabled,  I  went  with 
him  at  his  request  to  the  rear.  While  returning  to 
the  front,  I  met  several  members  of  our  company, 
who  said,  "  We  are  all  cut  up  and  Lieutenant  Dewey 
is  killed."  In  a  few  minutes  the  firing  ceased — then 
Sergeant  Parmelee,  Mr.  Sage  and  myself,  went  in 
search  of  him.  We  had  gone  perhaps  half  way  to 
the  spot,  when  we  met  two  men  bringing  him  in  on  a 
stretcher ;  we  took  it  from  them  and  carried  it  the 
rest  of  the  way  ourselves.  I  saw  that  life  was  not 
extinct,  for  he  moved  his  head.  As  soon  as  we 
reached  the  place  where  the  doctor  was,  I  called  him 
and  asked  what  was  to  be  done.  He  replied,  "  It  will 
be  useless  attempting  to  do  anything."  The  most  we 
could  do  was  to  make  his  last  moments  as  comfortable 
as  possible.  I  procured  some  spirit  and  water,  and 
with  a  small  sponge  moistened  his  lips,  but  on  my  at- 
tempting to  do  it  a  second  time,  he  turned  his  head 
and  raised  his  hand,  as  though  he  did  not  wish  it,  but 
would  rather  be  left  entirely  undisturbed.  I  spoke  to 
him  several  times  but  he  showed  no  signs  of  recog- 
nition and  although  he  rolled  his  head  and  opened  his 
eyes  occasionally,  did  not  seem  conscious  of  what  was 


96  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

going  on  around  him.  One  of  the  ambulance  men 
came  to  me  and  said  they  must  have  the  stretcher  on 
which  he  was  lying ;  so  we  raised  him  carefully  on  a 
blanket  and  laid  him  on  a  spot  of  soft  plowed  ground. 
I  then  got  Martin  Hills  to  hold  a  rubber  blanket  to 
shield  him  from  the  sun,  while  I  procured  some  sticks 
with  which  I  made  a  more  permanent  shelter.  In 
this  condition  he  lay  about  five  hours,  breathing  his 
last  near  half  past  one  o'clock,  passing  away  without 
a  groan  or  struggle.  I  then  had  him  taken  to  the 
sugar-house  and  laid  beside  other  officers.  Sergeant 
Parmelee  then  came  to  me  and  said  it  was  the  Adju- 
tant's wish  that  I  should  take  charge  of  the  body  and 
see  that  it  was  buried  as  decently  as  it  could  be  under 
the  circumstances.  After  I  had  washed  off  the  face 
and  hair,  the  adjutant  came  in  and  after  giving  a  few 
directions  he  stooped  down  and  kissed  the  marble 
forehead,  the  tears  coursing  down  his  cheeks,  and  ex- 
claimed, "  Poor  Dewey,  noble  boy  ! "  The  next  morn- 
ing Sergeant  Callehan  and  myself  procured  some 
boards  and  made  a  box  in  which  we  put  the  remains, 
which,  with  the  assistance  of  Sergeant  Cook,  we  buried 
about  twelve  o'clock.  There  was  no  religious  service 
of  any  kind,  but  we  laid  him  sadly  and  silently  down 
to  rest  till  God  shall  call  him.  Sergeant  Otis  marked 
a  large  board,  cutting  the  letters  deep  with  a  knife, 
"  Lieut.  D.  P.  Dewey,  Co.  A.  25th  Reg't  C.  V."— 
which  were  placed  firmly  in  the  ground  at  the  head 
of  the  grave.  I  do  not  know  certainly  what  his  last 
words  were,  but  I  was  told  the  last  he  was  heard  to 
say  was,  when  he  found  the  regiment  was  to  fall  back, 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWET.  97 

"  Well,  boys,  if  we  have  got  to  fall  back  don't  let  us 
do  it  in  disorder."  These  are  the  circumstances  con- 
nected with  his  death  and  burial  as  far  as  I  can  recall 
them.  There  may  have  been  incidents  that  would  be 
interesting  to  you  and  other  friends,  but  you  know 
during  such  a  time  of  excitement  many  things  must 
transpire  which  can  not  afterwards  be  called  to  mind. 
Any  further  information  which  I  can  give  I  will  give 
willingly.  I  should  have  written  this  before  but  my 
time  has  been  so  occupied  that  I  could  hardly  have 
an  evening  to  call  my  own. 

Truly  yours, 

SAMDEL  P.  FOLWELL. 

Part  of  a  letter  from  Sergeant  Cooke,  a  mem- 
ber of  young  Dewey's  squad,  to  Mrs.  Dewey. 
After  giving  some  particulars  concerning  the 
place  of  his  burial,  which  have  already  been 
related,  he  adds  his  own  affectionate  tribute  to 
the  purity  of  the  character  of  his  friend. 

Concerning  his  example  as  a  Christian,  I  can  say 
that  I  always  considered  his  example  good  and  worthy 
of  imitation.  I  never  knew  of  his  doing  anything  in- 
consistent with  his  profession  as  a  Christian.  You 
may  have  the  consolation  of  knowing  that  he  never 
gave  occasion  for  any  stories  which  might  pain  you. 
You  may  well  be  proud  of  such  a  son.  With  his 
squad  he  was  a  great  favorite.  They  knew  him  but 
to  love  him,  and  he  always  seemed  to  think  a  great 

9 


98  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

deal  of  them.     He  was  kind  and  always  ready  to  do 
a  favor. 

I  do  not  remember  who  suggested  the  plan  of  read- 
ing a  chapter  in  the  Bible  every  night.  We  carried 
out  the  custom  as  long  as  the  squad  remained  unbro- 
ken, which  was  up  to  two  or  three  days  of  the  battle 
on  the  14th  of  April.  Then  there  was  left  only 
Woodbridge  and  myself  and  our  Bibles  were  left  in 
our  knapsacks.  You  remember  we  left  them  at  Bra- 
shear  City  to  receive  them  again  in  three  or  four  days. 
He  bore  up  under  the  march  to  Port  Hudson  the  first 
time  and  also  from  Baton  Rouge  without  a  murmur, 
at  least  none  ever  reached  my  ears. 

If  anything  I  have  written  will  be  of  service  to 
you,  I  shall  be  very  glad,  though  I  fear  it  is  but  little. 
Yours,  respectfully, 

AARON  COOKE. 

Extract  of  a  letter  from  Colonel  Bissell,  of 
the  twenty-fifth  regiment,  to  the  father  of  Lieu- 
tenant Dewey. 

The  death  of  your  son  was  a  very  great  loss  to  me, 
and  to  the  company  and  regiment.  J  had  noticed 
him  from  his  very  marked  promptness  and  activity  in 
his  position  in  the  company,  and  I  was  not  slow  in 
promoting  him  as  soon  as  I  could ;  I  rejoiced  at  the 
opportunity. 

One  circumstance  connected  with  his  part  in  the 
battle  perhaps  will  interest  you.  He  used  to  sing  a 
song  commencing, 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  99 

"  There  is  music  in  the  air 
When  the  infant  morn  is  young." 

In  the  fight,  when  the  enemy  first  opened  with  their 
field-pieces,  the  shell  went  over  our  heads  with  a 
shriek  and  a  loud  whistle ;  your  son  was  near  me  at 
the  time  directing  his  company,  and  as  the  shells 
passed  over  us,  he  turned  to  me  in  his  most  cheerful 
manner,  and  said  he,  "  Colonel," 

"  There  is  music  in  the  air." 

I  have  now  forgotten  my  reply,  but  he  went  on 
cheering  his  men.  I  noticed  him  several  times  and 
he  was  always  at  his  post,  and  I  was  struck  by  his 
cheerful  and  utterly  fearless  manner.  He  died  as  he 
had  lived,  cheerful  and  fearless  and  good. 

I  had  learned  during  our  short  acquaintance  to  love 
him,  and  when  the  word  came  to  me  that  Dewey  had 
fallen,  I  was  for  the  moment  unmanned.  I  write 
with  considerable  feeling,  for  I  had  formed  for  him 
an  attachment  stronger  than  usual,  and  when  he  fell  I 
felt  that  I  had  lost  a  personal  friend,  and  more  than  a 
friend,  almost  a  brother  or  a  son. 

I  sympathize  with  you  deeply  in  your  bereavement 
and  feel  that  I  myself  need  sympathy.  I  will  add 
that  I  saw  him  just  before  he  was  removed  for  burial. 
I  went  alone  into  the  sugar-house  where  he  lay ;  the 
rays  of  the  setting  sun  shone  into  the  window  and  fell 
across  his  face ;  his  countenance  was  calm  as  if  in 
sleep,  his  face  beautiful  in  death.  I  brushed  away 
the  hair  from  his  brow,  and  closed  his  eyes  and  shed 


100  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

my  first  tear  of  that  day,  over  one  who  so  promising 
had  been  stricken  down. 

Till  that  moment  I  had  not  realized  the  sternness 
required  of  one  who  leads  men  to  danger,  but  I  sat 
down  beside  poor  Dewey  and  gave  way  to  tears. 

Colonel  Bissell  says  again  on  writing  of  this 
brave  young  Lieutenant : 

He  was  much  beloved  as  an  officer,  and  as  a  man, 
and  the  entire  regiment  mourns  his  loss. 

Of  the  manner  in  which  he  sustained  himself, 
wriies  Lieut.  Colonel  Weld,  in  command  of  the  com- 
pany, I  can  speak  from  personal  observation.  No 
company  was  so  well  held  together,  none  did  greater 
service.  Lieutenant  Dewey  constantly  exposed  his 
own  person,  showing  an  utter  fearlessness  in  discharge 
of  his  duty.  He  could  hardly  have  justly  considered 
that  part  of  his  duty  which  required  him  to  take  all 
proper  means  to  preserve  his  own  life  to  his  company 
and  country,  not  to  say  his  friends.  He  showed  him- 
self in  all  respects  to  be  an  excellent  officer.  *  * 

My  affection  for  your  son  was  very  sincere,  and  I 
believe  it  was  reciprocated.  Blessed  is  he,  who, 
loving  Jesus  better  than  all  on  earth,  can  bow  with 
submission  to  such  a  blow.  God  grant  you*  and  all 
who  loved  your  son,  grace  to  do  so. 

And  again  : 

My  affection  for  him  grew  daily.  He  possessed  all 
the  points  of  a  good  soldier ;  was  brave,  discreet, 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  101 

reliable,  prompt,  and  as  an  officer,  just  and  discrimin- 
ating, showing  excellent  judgment.  In  the  camp  and 
in  the  field,  as  at  home,  he  exhibited  all  the  points  of 
a  high-minded,  cultivated  Christian  gentleman.  Be- 
loved by  all  and  sincerely  mourned,  his  example  is  one 
to  be  emulated,  and  his  memory  will  be  ever  fragrant. 

Extract  from  a  letter  from  Lieutenant  Colo- 
nel Weld,  to  the  father  of  Lieutenant  Dewey. 

BEFORE  PORT  HUDSON,  June,  1863. 

With  fresh  sadness  the  thought  of  your  noble  son 
and  my  sorrow  recur  to  mind.  Freed  from  wars  and 
tumults  he  is  at  rest  in  a  soldier's  grave,  where  the 
silent  waters  of  the  little  river  called  the  Teche,  filled 
with  lillies  and  water-plants,  and  overhung  with  elms 
and  oaks,  flow  by,  and  the  tall  corn  and  cane-fields 
wave  in  the  breeze  and  grow  luxuriantly  green  ;  where 
the  wounded  and  dying  were  brought  to  the  field  hos- 
pital on  that  fatal  day.  That  grave  is  well  marked, 
near  a  large  sugar-house,  where  none  but  malicious 
hands  can  disturb  the  precious  clay. 

You  need  not  the  assurance  of  my  deep  sympathy 
nor  of  the  affection  with  which  Perkins  was  regarded 
both  by  his  fellow-officers  and  the  soldiers  of  the  25th, 
and  you  may  depend  that  should  opportunity  occur,  any 
one  of  us  would  cheerfully  render  any  aid  we  could 
to  secure  a  safe  and  proper  transmit  of  his  remains. 

We  can  not  refrain  from  making  an  extract 
from  a  most  delightfully  written  volume  enti- 
9* 


102  A  MEMORIAL   OF 

tied  the  "  Color-Guard,"  by  J.  K.  Hosmer, 
where  a  description  of  the  battle-field,  where 
Lieut.  Dewey,  with  so  many  other  of  our  brave 
soldiers  fell,  is  given,  so  vivid  in  its  painful 
details  that  we  seem  almost  to  stand  with  the 
eye-witness,  who  says : 

"  Day  broke  as  we  marched  out  into  the  road, — a 
listless,  half-exhausted  body  of  men.  During  the 
three  previous  nights  we  had  had  but  little  sleep  and 
but  little  food  since  the  Saturday  before.  It  was  now 
Tuesday.  We  were  all  more  or  less  drenched  with 
the  rain,  and  the  blankets  and  clothing  weighed  double 
with  the  moisture.  As  the  sun  came  up,  however, 
and  the  morning  damps  steamed  off,  we  felt  better, 
and  had  Our  senses  open  a  little  to  the  beauty  of  the 
road,  the  sweetness  of  the  blossoms,  and  the  verdure  of 
the  slopes. 

Presently  we  hear  the  sound  of  firing.  "  They 
have  found  them  again,"  I  say  to  the  color-sergeant, 
and  we  look  off  over  the  woods  to  where  the  white  cloud 
of  the  discharge  can  be  seen  rising  among  the  trees. 
As  we  sweep  along  the  road  towards  the  firing,  the 
day  each  minute  becomes  more  and  more  beautiful. 
Each  minute,  too,  the  roar  of  the  cannon  is  more 
frequent  and  becomes  mingled  at  last  with  sharp,  rat- 
tling volleys  of  small  arms.  We  come  at  last,  into 
full  view  of  the  scene.*  We  halt  in  the  road,  and 
leaning  against  a  fence,  looking  southward  through 
the  rails,  the  whole  combat  is  visible  to  us,  who 
are  now  within  cannon-range.  We  look  down  a 
*  Irish  Bend. 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  103 

gentle  slope.  To  the  left  we  can  see  a  battery  posted, 
which  fires  very  vigorously ;  then  the  bodies  of  in- 
fantry in  long  dark  lines,  moving  upon  an  open  field 
in  front  of  a  wood.  In  the  lines  are  gaps  which  may 
be  caused  by  moving  over  rough  ground,  or  by  the 
plunge  of  shot  and  shell.  To  the  right  again  we  can 
see  bodies  of  troops  and  batteries.  Hear  that  long 
crash  of  musketry  !  each  individual  discharge  so  blend- 
ing into  the  others,  that  we  can  only  hear  one  long 
sound,  like  the  slow  fall  of  some  huge  tower.  It  is  a 
rebel  volley,  terribly  effective,  as  we  afterwards  hear; 
and  while  the  wind  bears  it  to  us,  we  are  ordered  for- 
ward, and  presently  are  on  the  very  field. 

Ambulance  men,  with  stretchers,  are  hurrying 
across  the  field  to  a  sugar-house  in  the  rear,  where 
a  hospital  is  established.  On  each  stretcher  is  a 
wounded  man,  and  the  number  of  these  makes  it  cer- 
tain that  the  engagement  has  reached  the  sad  dignity 
of  a  pitched  battle.  We  are  passing  ammunition 
wagons  now  ;  now  a  tree,  beneath  which  is  a  surgeon 
at  work,  and  close  where  he  stands,  on  his  back,  stiff 
and  stark,  dead,  a  tall,  broad-chested  man,  with  closed 
eyes.  The  column  files  to  the  right,  out  of  the  road, 
and  we  stand  in  line  of  battle  just  in  the  rear  of  the 
action,  within  rifle  range  of  the  woods  where  the 
enemy  lie  concealed,  expecting  every  moment  the 
order  to  advance.  The  firing,  however,  slackens,  and 
presently  word  comes  that  the  enemy  are  with- 
drawing. 

Between  the  color-company  and  the  next  company, 
through  the  center  of  our  line,  runs  the  cart-track 


104  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

down  into  the  field,  along  which  is  now  constantly 
passing  a  stream  of  wounded  men,  on  stretchers,  or 
supported  by  comrades,  and  lines  of  rebel  prisoners. 
I  am  close  by  and  can  hear  the  talk  of  a  sergeant, 
bloody,  but  able  to  walk,  who  is  glad  he  has  a  chance 
to  do  some  service.  /  look,  too,  upon  the  ghastly  head 
of  a  young  Lieutenant  who  is  dying  upon  his  stretcher,* 
and  upon  many  others.  Prisoners  come  in  by  squads, — 
sometimes  five  or  six,  sometimes  twenty  or  thirty. 
Once  in  a  while  there  is  an  intelligent,  good  looking 
face  ;  more  often  the  features  are  unintelligent, — the 
brutish  face  of  that  deteriorating  class,  the  white  trash. 
Thus  we  stand  close  at  hand  to  suffering  and  death. 

The  pursuit  is  being  continued  down  the  road. 
Hours  pass,  and  we  still  remain  in  line.  We  cook,  eat, 
and  sleep.  I  get  out  my  portfolio  and  write  a  little. 
In  the  course  of  the  day,  up  into  the  blue  calm  sky  go 
mighty  columns  of  smoke,  with  deep  reports, — the  ex- 
plosions of  rebel  gunboats  and  transports,  overtaken  in 
the  Teche  by  the  victorious  army,  and  blown  up  by  the 
crews  as  they  flee.  Within  half  a  dozen  rods  of  our  line 
is  a  field  hospital,  where  lie,  of  one  New  York  regiment, 
the  wounded  colonel,  the  dead  lieutenant  colonel, 
adjutant,  and  other  officers  and  men.  Of  other  regi- 
ments, too,  are  many  wounded,  federal  and  rebel, — 
some  dying  under  the  surgeon's  hands.  I  go  over  and 
see  the  writhing  wounded,  and  the  hospital  attendants 
laying  out  the  dead.  An  Irish  private  lies  close  by 
the  straight  young  adjutant,  whose  face  is  reverently 

*  This  it  is  supposed,  was  Lieutenant  Dewey. 


DANIEL    PERKINS   DEWEY.  105 

covered  ;  and  not  far  off  is  a  rebel,  covered  thick 
with  his  own  gore.  Before  death  go  down  all  distinc- 
tions and  animosities.  Does  it  not  seem  when  the  ex- 
periences are  so  out  of  the  common  course,  and  so 
dreadful,  as  if  there  ought  to  be  some  change  in  out- 
ward circumstances  to  make  them  correspond  ?  But 
no :  it  was  a  perfect  summer  day, — an  almost  cloud- 
less sky,  with  a  cool,  sweet  wind  coming  from  the 
woods  where  the  rebels  had  been  hidden  ;  the  woods 
green  and  fresh  and  innocent,  as  if  they  were  only  a 
haunt  for  fairies. 

They  say  we  lost  in  the  neighborhood  of  four  hun- 
dred. Only  one  brigade  was  engaged.  It  was  a 
bloody  strife." 

We  are  reminded  of  Whittier's  beautiful 
"  Battle  Autumn  of  1862,"  which  for  its  great 
beauty  we  give  to  the  reader  in'  this  place, 
believing  that  those  who  have  never  read  it 
will  dwell  upon  it  with  delight ;  while  those 
to  whom  it  is  familiar  will  welcome  the  sweet 
religious  strain  again. 

"  The  flags  of  war  like  storm-birds  fly, 

The  charging  trumpets  blow ; 
Yet  rolls  no  thunder  in  the  sky, 

No  earthquake  strives  below. 

And,  calm  and  patient,  Nature  keeps 

Her  ancient  promise  well, 
Though  o'er  her  bloom  and  greenness  sweep 

The  battle's  breath  of  hell. 


106  A    MEMORIAL    OP 

And  still  she  walks  in  golden  hours 
Through  harvest-happy  farms ; 

And  still  she  wears  her  fruits  and  flowers 
Like  jewels  on  her  arms. 

What  mean  the  gladness  of  the  plain, 
The  mirth  of  eve  and  morn, 

The  mirth  that  shakes  the  beard  of  grain, 
And  yellow  locks  of  corn  ? 

Ah,  eyes  may  well  be  full  of  tears 
And  hearts  with  hate  are  hot  ; 

But  even-paced  come  round  the  years, 
And  Nature  changes  not. 

She  meets  with  smiles  our  bitter  grief, 
With  songs  our  groans  of  pain  ; 

She  mocks  with  tint  of  flower  and  leaf 
The  war-field's  crimson  stain. 

Still,  in  the  cannon's  pause  we  hear 
Her  sweet  thanksgiving  psalm  ; 

Too  near  to  God  for  doubt  or  fear, 
She  shares  the  eternal  calm. 

She  knows  the  seed  lies  safe  below 
The  fires  that  blast  and  burn  ; 

For  all  the  tears  of  blood  we  sow, 
She  waits  a  rich  return. 

She  sees  with  clearer  eyes  than  ours 
The  good  of  suffering  born, — 

The  hearts  that  blossom  like  her  flowers, 
And  ripen  like  her  corn. 


DANIEL   PERKINS    DEWEY.  107 

Oh,  give  to  us,  in  times  like  these 
i  The  vision  of  her  eyes ; 

And  make  her  fields  and  fruited  trees 
Our  golden  prophecies ! 

Oh  give  to  us  her  finer  ear  ! 

Above  this  stormy  din, 
We,  too,  would  hear  the  bells  of  cheer 

Ring  peace  and  freedom  in  ! 

Letter  from  Bishop  Burgess  of  Maine. 

GARDINER,  MAINE,  May  7th,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  MRS.  DEWEY  : 

I  have  heard  of  your  bereavement ;  and  I  can  but 
write,  though  I  well  know  how  little  it  can  avail  at 
this  moment.  Your  dear  son  was  the  precious  gift  of 
God,  who  had  preserved  him  so  long  to  be  your  com- 
fort and  reliance.  It  might  have  pleased  God,  in  his 
supreme  wisdom,  to  remove  him  in  his  youth  through 
many  of  the  common  diseases  which  are  the  instru- 
ments of  his  will,  and  through  which  so  many  fami- 
lies are  made  desolate.  You  had  experience  in  former 
years  of  that  kind  of  sorrow ;  you  know  all  that  trial ; 
and  you  can  now  look  back  upon  it,  I  presume,  with 
submission,  peace,  and  perhaps  with  a  sacred  satisfac- 
tion. Now,  the  same  Lord  has  appointed  a  different 
instrumentality  for  his  mysterious  purpose,  and  your 
son  has  laid  down  his  life  for  his  country  and  for  all 
of  us ;  with  so  many  others  which  have  been  given 
up  in  this  melancholy  but  unavoidable  struggle.  He 
has  died  in  the  way  of  honorable  duty ;  a  sacrifice, 
the  value  of  which.  God  only  knows  and  can  estimate. 
Hereafter,  he  will  be  remembered  with  honor,  and 


108 

you  and  his  father  and  his  brothers  will  ever  be  grate- 
ful for  his  unstained  career  and  memory.  But  all  this 
can  not  heal  your  wound,  and  I  feel  that  I  express 
respect  and  sympathy  only,  but  have  no  power  to 
strengthen  you  except  by  pointing  you  to  the  Source 
of  all  strength  and  consolation.  He  does  not  willingly 
afflict ;  He  knows  and  appoints  that  time  and  man- 
ner which  are  best.  The  hairs  of  our  heads  are  all 
numbered,  and  every  drop  of  blood  which  has  flowed 
has  been  shed  at  a  moment  which  He  foresaw  and  for 
which  He  made  provision  in  His  wisdom  and  in  His 
goodness.  I  trust  your  dear  son  feared  God,  and  in 
anticipation  of  the  dangers  of  battle,  committed  him- 
self to  His  care  and  mercy,  through  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  I  did  not  know  that  he  was  there  ;  but  my 
prayers,  with  those  of  millions,  have  been  continually 
offered  for  such  as  like  him  were  in  mortal  peril  for 
our  sake.  I  do  not  think  that  any  one  who  falls  in 
such  a  cause,  simply  because  it  is  the  duty  of  all  citi- 
zens to  defend  their  country,  and  he  is  willing  to  meet 
it  that  others  may  be  spared,  can  be  a  loser  through 
his  noble  act  of  love.  It  is  following  the  example  of 
Him  who  said,  "  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this, 
that  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends :  ye  are 
my  friends  if  ye  do  whatsoever  I  command  you." 

I  beg  to  be  most  kindly  remembered  to  all  your 
family  :  and  to  assure  them  of  my  tenderest  sympathy 
and  sincere  prayers. 

Believe  me,  as  ever, 

Affectionately  yours, 

GEORGE  BURGESS. 

Mrs.  E.  P.  Dewey. 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  109 

Extract  of  a  letter  from  Rev.  Mr.  Oviatt,  Chap- 
lain of  the  25th  Regiment. 

I  saw  him  often  and  always  loved  him  for  his  man- 
liness, and  equally  for  his  gentleness  and  loveliness. 
I  am  glad  that  you  are  to  recover  his  body,  and  when 
you  receive  it  please  let  me  know. 

That  he  is  in  a  better  world  we  can  not  doubt. 
The  Lord  greatly  comfort  you  all ! 

Yours,  with  true  sympathy, 

GEO.  A.  OVIATT. 

When  Bishop  Burgess  left  the  parish  of 
Christ  Church,  Hartford,  to  enter  upon  his 
duties  as  Bishop  of  Maine,  Perkins  was  but  a 
little  child  ;  had  the  Bishop  remained  amongst 
us  what  a  bond  of  Christian  love  would  have 
arisen  between  that  most  faithful  Shepherd  and 
this  young  member  of  the  flock  of  Christ ! 
The  one  walking  steadily  onward  through  all 
the  changes  of  life,  in  that  path  that  is  "  Like 
the  shining  light  that  shineth  more  and  more 
unto  the  perfect  day  ;"  and  the  other  entering 
and  following  on  in  the  same  blessed  pathway 
to  "  Glory,  honor  and  immortality."  Bishop 
B.  says,  "  I  trust  your  dear  son  feared  God, 
and  in  the  anticipation  of  the  dangers  of  battle 
committed  himself  to  His  care  and  mercy, 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  The  assur- 
ance that  ho  did  "  fear  God  and  that  he  had 
10 


110  A   MEMORIAL  OP 

consecrated  himself  as  Christ's  faithful  soldier 
and  servant  unto  his  life's  end,"  is  the  abiding 
consolation  of  those  that  loved  him.  When  he 
was  but  eighteen  years  old  he  took  upon  him- 
self the  vows  that  were  made  for  him  in  his  in- 
fancy in  baptism,  and  very  soon  after  became  a 
communicant  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  And 
now  while  sorrowfully  kneeling  around  the 
sacred  table  where  he  was  wont  to  kneel, 
there  is 

"  A  group  of  worshipers  in  mourning, 
Missing  some  one  at  the  Sacrament." 

Yet  they  may  follow  that  "  one"  in  faith  and 
trust  where  now  he  is, 

"  Up  above  a  crown'd  and  happy  spirit, 
Like  an  infant  in  the  eternal  years, 
Made  to  grow  in  life  and  love  forever, 
Ordered  in  his  place,  amongst  his  peers." 

At  the  time  that  young  Dewey  so  success- 
fully accomplished  his  task  in  writing  and  de- 
livering his  composition  upon  Frankincense, 
the  Reverend  Dr.  W.  was  present.  Turn- 
ing to  Mrs.  D.,  as  the  young  speaker  finished 
his  theme,  he  asked,  "  Is  that  your  boy  Mrs. 
Dewey?"  and  then  said,  "You  ought  to  be 
proud  of  him ;  you  ought  to  educate  him 
for  the  Church."  How  differently  his  course 


DANIEL    PERKINS    DEWEY.  Ill 

has  been  ordered  !  Yet  who  can  say  that  the 
issues  of  his  life  may  not  be  equal  to  all  that 
would  have  been  accomplished,  had  it  been  de- 
voted to  the  ministry  ?  It  was  the  stern  voice 
of  conscience  which  urged  him  into  the  army. 
And  how  many  hundreds, — thousands  of  our 
noblest  men  have  gone  forth  like  him,  with  their 
lives  in  their  hands  and  have  perished  in  the 
same  cause — "  A  noble  army  of  martyrs  ! "  In 
the  native  city  of  our  young  hero,  what  hon- 
orable names  are  added  to  the  long  array  of 
those  that  all  over  our  country  are  treasured 
amongst  her  jewels.  Young  Lieut.  Charles 
T.  Weld,  the  record  of  whose  life  is  all  that  is 
"  Lovely  and  of  good  report,"  who  was  laid  to 
rest  amidst  the  tears  of  a  multitude,  while  Da- 
vid's lamentation  over  Saul  and  Jonathan, 
sounded  in  our  ears  as  if  for  the  first  time, 
"  The  beauty  of  Israel  is  slain  upon  thy  high 
places;  how  are  the  mighty  fallen!"  His 
grave  is  by  the  side  of  his  time-honored  ances- 
tors, that  were  gathered  to  their  rest  after  long 
years  of  usefulness  and  honor.  Yet  the  meas- 
ure of  his  duty  was  full,  although  his  life  was 
of  such  short  duration, 

"  And,  though  the  warrior's  sun  has  set, 
Its  light  shall  linger  round  us  yet, 
Bright,  radiant,  blest." 


112  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

We  might  speak  too  of  young  Capt.  C.  A.  Ten- 
nant,  who  could  hardly  be  restrained  from  the 
first  call  of  our  chief  ruler  to  go  forth  in  de- 
fense of  his  country's  honor,  by  the  entreaties 
of  a  parent  he  had  never  failed  to  honor.  The 
second  call  came  and  "  now  1  must  go"  was  the 
responding  word  of  this  young  patriot.  After 
months  of  brave  endurance,  of  active  duty, 
and  after  passing  safely  through  the  perils  of 
one  severe  battle,  he  was  hit  by  the  deadly 
missile  in  another  which  ended  all  mortal  con- 
flicts for  him.  A  pure-minded,  amiable,  con- 
scientious member  of  the  "  Household  of  faith," 
whose  last  message  to  his  friends  in  Christ  was, 
"  the  hope  that  their  prayers  might  be  heard 
in  behalf  of  the  children  of  the  Church  sub- 
ject to  so  many  .temptations  in  the  army." 
"  Henceforth,"  says  one  of  his  companions, 
"  let  his  name  be  cherished  and  remembered 
with  reverence  by  all  who  have  a  heart  to  love 
and  a  soul  to  honor  a  filial  son,  a  faithful  friend, 
a  true  soldier  and  patriot." 

And  another  name  which  shines  before  us  in 
bright  characters  is  that  of  young  Gen.  Griffin 
A.  Stedman.*  But  lately  written  amongst  those 
that  belong  to  the  departed,  on  the  enduring 
rolls  of  fame,  a  name  of  well  earned  distinc- 

*  He  was  also  a  member  of  Trinity  College. 


DANIEL  PERKINS  DEWEY.        113 

tion.  Although  but  twenty-six  years  of  age,  he 
had  received  the  appointment  of  brigadier- 
general,  and  yet  he  had  not  received  it,  for  it 
reached  his  tent  while  he  lay  there  cold  in 
death.  Faithful  in  the  discharge  of  duty,  brave, 
mature  in  mind,  of  a  kind  and  gentle  spirit, 
he  was  beloved  and  honored  by  all  grades  of 
his  warlike  companions,  from  the  highest  rank 
to  the  humblest,  and  not  only  in  the  army 
were  his  fine  traits  of  character  appreciated,  it 
was  wherever  he  was  known.  His  superiority 
was  apparent  to  all  who  had  any  intercourse 
with  him  ;  so  young,  so  well  qualified  to  adorn 
and  ennoble  all  the  relations  of  life,  his  early 
removal  from  us  must  fill  the  heart  with  sor- 
row. 

These  are  but  the  beginning  names  of  those 
who  have  gone  from  us,  who  will  be  seen 
amongst  us  no  more.  While  we  think  of  them 
the  bright  hues  that  used  to  glow  above  and 
around  us  seem  to  fade  away  in  the  dreary  and 
lengthening  shadows  ;  a  long  night  of  sorrow 
and  darkness  ! 

To  Captain  Samuel  S.  Hayden,  who  fell  in 
the  same  battle  and  was  buried  in  the  same 
grave  with  Lieutenant  Dewey,  we  must  pay  a 
brief  tribute  of  sorrow  and  affection,  and  of 
honor.  He  was  a  man  of  such  a  genial  and 
10* 


114  A   MEMORIAL  OP 

kindly  nature  that  it  was  impossible  not  to  love 
him  ;  while  his  quick  insight  into  human  char- 
acter, his  strong  common  sense,  and  his 
fine  natural  powers  were  all  harmonized  and 
brought  into  hourly  effectiveness  by  the  power 
of  a  living  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

Rev.  Mr.  Oviatt,  chaplain  of  the  25th  regi- 
ment, says,  in  an  address  delivered  at  the  fune- 
ral of  Capt.  H.  Capt.  Hayden  was  truly  a 
brave  man ;  he  was  not  rash,  but  he  was 
brave  according  to  Bacon's  definition  of  the 
word,  and  united  "  courage  with  generosity  and 
dignity  of  mind,"  and  as  an  anonymous  writer 
says,  "  The  brave  man  will  not  deliberately  do 
an  injury  to  his  fellow-man." 

His  patriotism  was  as  pure  and  self-sacrific- 
ing as  ever  glowed  in  the  bosom  of  any  man. 
He  enlisted  in  the  army  not  for  gain,  not  for 
honor,  not  because  he  was  weary  of  the  routine 
of  life  at  home,  and  would  be  an  adventurer, 
but  simply  from  a  stern  sense  of  duty.  He  had 
a  pleasant  home,  he  was  surrounded  by  loving 
kindred  and  friends,  he  enjoyed  the  confidence 
of  the  community,  and  he  had  a  competence 
of  worldly  good,  with  common  frugality  and 
industry,  to  enable  him  to  support  himself  and 
family  comfortably  and  to  contribute  something 
as  he  wished,  to  the  great  causes  of  benevo- 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  115 

lence  ;  while  he  had  passed  the  meridian  of  his 
years,  heing  in  the  fiftieth  year  of  his  age,  and 
was  just  at  the  time  of  life  when  he  felt  that 
he  would  more  than  ever  find  his  peace  and 
enjoyment  in  the  hosom  of  his  home  and  in  the 
society  of  his  friends.  His  country  was  in 
peril.  Treason  was  beating  against  the  con- 
stitution and  government  of  the  country  and 
seeking  most  madly  to  rupture  the  Union,  and 
the  cry  to  arms  was  ringing  through  the  val- 
leys and  over  the  hills  of  New  England.  The 
cry  roused  all  the  Christian  patriotism  in  him, 
and  that  he  might  do  what  in  him  lay  to  put 
down  this  rebellion,  he  nobly  laid  himself  on 
the  altar  and  went  forth  to  fight  for  his  coun- 
try. As  he  was  loyal  as  loyal  could  be,  and 
was  ready  to  fight  for  the  preservation  of  the 
constitution,  so  did  he  hate  the  institution  of 
slavery,  and  feel  that  it  must  and  ought  to  be 
in  due  time  "  utterly  overthrown." — Memorial 
address  delivered  at  the  funeral  of  Captain 
Samuel  S.  Hayden,  at  Windsor  Locks,  Friday, 
June  19^/t,  1863. 

The  following  original  verses  were  given  to 
Mrs.  Dewey  by  a  friend  as  applicable  to  the 
brief  but  noble  career  of  her  lamented  son. 


116  A    MEMORIAL   OP 

Thoughts  suggested  by  seeing  the  picture  of  an  Angel, 
with  his  hand  resting  on  the  shoulder  of  a  young  child, 
standing  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  which  is  concealed 
from  his  sight  by  flowers  of  varied  hue, — portraying  the 
German  idea,  that  so  long  as  the  child  heeds  the  Angel'* 
hand,  he  will  be  protected  from  harm. 

"  As  gently  falls,  in  evening  hour, 
The  dew  upon  that  drooping  flower, 
So  from  the  Angel's  wing  drops  balm, 
My  darling's  anguish'd  brow  to  calm, — 
He  sleeps, — he  wakes, — and  life  again 
Resumes  his  wonted  power  to  reign. 
"  Blest  Guardian  Angel !  oh  !  'tis  joy 
To  know  thy  hand  rests  on  my  boy." 

u  Within  his  path  a  serpent  lies, — 

One  touch  from  its  sharp  fang, — he  dies, — 

He  counts  its  spots, — my  darling  boy  ! 

He  holds  it  like  a  pretty  toy, — 

He  lays  it  down,  with  gentle  care, 

Then  passes  on  as  free  as  air. 

"  Blest  Guardian  Angel !  Oh  !  'tis  joy 

To  know  thy  hand  rests  on  my  boy." 

"  In  youthful  pride  he  now  doth  stand  ; — 
Oh !  will  he  heed  that  angel  hand  ? — 
Pleasure's  gay  flowers,  of  varying  hue, 
Conceal  a  chasm  from  his  view, — 
One  step  aside, — and  he  is  gone — 
He  stops,  admires,  then  passes  on. 
"  Blest  Guardian  Angel !  Oh  !  'tis  joy 
To  know  thy  hand  still  guides  my  boy." 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  117 

"  His  way  is  rough  and  dangers  high 

Appear  where'er  he  turns  his  eye. 

Ambition's  chariot  by  his  side 

O'er  the  rough  path  can  smoothly  glide ; 

With  impulse  strong  he  takes  the  rein, 

Then  turns  and  passes  on  again. 

"  Blest  Guardian  Angel !  oh  !  'tis  joy 

To  know  thy  hand  still  guides  my  boy." 

"  A  cross  appeal's, — and  bowing  low, 
Heaven's  armor  over  him  doth  throw  ; 
Then  from  that  cross  there  beams  a  light 
Which  makes  earth's  darkest  regions  bright, 
Which  shows  that  those  rough  paths  but  speed 
The  faithful  soldier  to  his  meed. 
"Blest  Guardian  Angel!  oh!  'tis  joy 
To  know  thy  hand  rests  on  my  boy." 

"  Girded  with  strength  he  now  doth  stand, 
Ready  for  duty's  stern  command. 
Ambition's  steeds,  hoofs  crimson  dyed, 
Now  rushing  past,  spread  terror  wide, — 
His  country  calls  ; — and  must  he  go  ? 
He  falters  not, — he  meets  the  foe. 
"  Blest  Guardian  !  oh  !  in  fear,  'tis  joy 
To  know  thy  hand  still  guides  my  boy." 


"  The  conflict's  past, — and  he  is  gone, — 
The  sorrowing  mother  sits  alone, — 
But  will  she  weep,  that  he  did  give 
His  life,  that  we  in  peace  might  live  ? 
That  dying  thus,  he  drew  more  nigh 
To  Him,  who  on  the  cross  did  die  ? 
"  Blest  Guardian  Angel !  guide  in  joy, 
The  stricken  mother  to  her  boy." 


118  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

"  And  will  she  weep, — that  to  his  eye, 
When  those  dark  battle  clouds  passed  by, 
Heaven's  plain  triumphant  was  revealed, 
Where  stand  the  thousands  who  are  sealed, 
Enrobed  in  white,  a  glorious  band, 
With  victor  palms  in  every  hand  ? 
"  Blest  Guardian  Angel !  guide  in  joy, 
The  hoping  mother  to  her  boy." 

"  And  will  she  weep, — that  wild  alarms, 
And  cannon's  roar,  and  clash  of  arms, 
Melted  in  music,  sweet  and  low, 
Which  from  the  seraphs'  harps  doth  flow, 
As  his  freed  spirit  took  its  way, 
To  heaven's  eternal  triumph  day  ? 
"  Blest  Guardian  Angel !  guide  in  joy, 
The  waiting  mother  to  her  boy." 


DANIEL  PERKINS  DEWEY, 

Member  of  the  Junior  Class  of  Trinity  College,  Lieuten- 
ant Company  A,  25th  Regiment  Connecticut  Volun- 
teers, killed  in  the  Battle  of  the  Teche,  La.,  April  14th, 
1863. 

RESOLUTIONS   OF    THE   JUNIOR   CLASS. 

WHEREAS,  It  hath  pleased  Almighty  God  to  remove,  by  a 
most  sudden  and  untimely  death,  Lieut.  DANIEL  P. 
DEWKY;  therefore,  we,  for  ourselves,  and  in  behalf  of 
our  Class-mates,  in  order  to  express  our  deep  regret  at 
his  fate,  and  our  respect  for  his  memory,  have 

Resolved,  That,  although  acknowledging,  in  the  death  of 
our  friend  and  class-mate,  the  doings  of  an  all-wise  Provi- 


DANIEL    PERKINS   DEWEY.  119 

dence,  yet  we  mourn  his  death,  and  regret  the  loss  to  the 
College  and  to  the  Class. 

Resolved,  That  to  the  Family  we  extend  our  heart  felt 
sympathies. 

Resolved,  That  the  Class  wear  the  appropriate  badge 
of  mourning  for  thirty  days. 

Resolved,  That  these  Resolutions  be  printed  in  the  City 
papers,  and  that  a  copy  be  sent  to  the  family. 

WM.  A.  M.  WAINWRIGHT,  >  n 
JOSEPH  F.ELY,  '£  COMMITTEE. 

RESOLUTIONS   OF   THE    TRINITY    COLLEGE   PARTHENON. 

WHEREAS,  Tt  hath  pleased  an  Overruling  Providence  to 
remove  by  death  our  late  beloved  associate  and  friend, 
Lieutenant  D.  P.  DEWEY  •  and  whereas,  this  Society, 
with  which  he  was  connected,  desires  to  give  suitable 
expression  to  the  sorrow  which  this  bereavement  has 
caused:  therefore, 

Resolved,  That  while  we  bow  in  submission  to  this  afflict- 
ive dispensation  of  Almighty  God,  we  feel  that  in  the 
death  of  our  former  friend,  this  Society  has  lost  an  earnest 
and  most  efficient  member. 

Resolved,  That  while  we  affectionately  cherish  the  mem- 
ory of  our  departed  friend,  who  died  struggling  nobly  in 
his  country's  cause,  we  will  endeavor  to  emulate  his  manly 
traits  of  character. 

Resolved,  That  we  tender  our  unfeigned  sympathy  to 
the  friends  and  relatives  of  the  deceased,  hoping  that  they 
may  be  sustained  in  their  affliction  by  Power  from  on 
Uish. 


120  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

Resolved,  That   these   Resolutions  be  published   in  the 
City  papers,  and  a  copy  of  them  be  presented  to  the  rela- 
tives of  Lieut.  Dewey,  as  a  last  tribute  of  respect  from 
those  who  have  known  and  esteemed  his  manly  virtues. 
CHARLES  HUSBAND,)  CoMMITTEE 
C.  H.  B.  TREMAINE,    \  CoMMITTEE- 


FROM  A  CLASS-MATE. 

IN    MEMORIAM. 

There  is  a  grief  whose  silence  is  more  speaking 
Than  any  words  the  human  lips  can  tell, 
Too  full  of  woe  for  any  language — breaking 
The  sad  enchantment  of  the  mournful  spell. 

And  yet  the  lips  can  scarce  restrain  the  feeling 
That  from  the  heart  with  words  seems  brimming  o'er, 
And  in  the  weakness  of  its  woe  appealing 
To  those  whose  hearts  can  make  response  no  more. 

Farewell,  great  heart !  gone  from  the  toil  and  striving ; 
Gone  from  the  struggle  of  the  Wrong  with  Right ; 
Gone  from  the  lesser  to  the  more  exalted  living  ; 
Gone  from  the  feebler  to  the  fuller  light. 

Farewell,  oh  heart !  which,  great  in  sacrificing, 
The  full  fruition  of  thy  work  shall  bless  ; 
Above  the  press  of  circumstances  rising, 
Superior  to  their  fretful  littleness. 

Farewell,  oh  heart !  most  great  in  self-commanding, 
Enjoy  the  Peace — thy  conflict  now  is  done — 
The  Peace  of  God,  which  passeth  understanding ; 
The  Peace  which  crowns  the  conquest  nobly  won. 

T.  R.  A. 


DANIEL  PERKINS   DEWEY.  121 

After  an  interval  of  seven  months,  in  which 
for  several  unavoidable  causes  the  body  of  Lieu- 
tenant Dewey  was  detained  at  the  jSouth,  his 
mother  succeeded  in  her  efforts  to  obtain  the 
object  of  her  anxious  care.  But  not  till  mid- 
winter did  she  have  that  melancholy  satisfac- 
tion. He  was  buried  from  Christ  Church ; 
the  sacred  home  where  he  had  been  religiously 
educated,  and  confirmed,  and  where  he  had 
received  his  first  Communion. 

We  copy  from  the  Hartford  Times,  the  touch- 
ing funeral  address  of  President  Eliot,  of 
Trinity  College,  together  with  the  particulars 
of  the  last  sad  ceremonies : 

A  SOLDIER'S  FUNERAL. — The  funeral  of  Lieut. 
D.  P.  DEWEY,  of  the  25th  Regiment  (killed  in  the 
battle  of  Irish  Bend  last  spring)  took  place  yesterday 
afternoon  from  Christ  Church,  and  was  very  largely 
attended.  A  number  of  the  officers  and  men  of  the 
regiment,  the  President  and  Faculty  of  Trinity  Col- 
lege, and  many  students  were  present.  The  body  was 
enclosed  in  a  coffin  covered  with  black  cloth,  thickly 
Studded  with  silver  nails  and  handles.  A  heavy  plate 
bore  the  name  and  age  (20  years  and  10  months)  of 
the  deceased.  Upon  the  top  of  the  coffin  were  several 
wreaths  and  crosses  of  flowers,  the  sword  and  cap  of 
the  deceased,  and  the  torn  and  tattered  flags  of  the 
25th  Regiment.  The  bearers  were  non-commissioned 
officers  of  the  regiment.  At  2  o'clock  the  Rev.  Dr. 
11 


122  A   MEMORIAL   OF 

CLARK  and  Mr.  DOANE  met  the  body  at  the  vesti- 
bule of  the  church  and  proceeded  up  the  aisle  reading 
the  beautiful  burial  service  of  the  Episcopal  church. 
On  reaching  the  chancel,  the  coffin  was  placed  in  front 
of  the  font  and  the  regular  service  read  by  Rev. 
Mr.  DOANE.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  lesson,  Dr. 
CLARK  called  upon  Professor  ELIOT,  President  of 
Trinity  College,  for  a  few  remarks.  Professor  E. 
responded  by  walking  up  the  aisle,  till  standing  by  the 
side  of  the  coffin  that  held  ;the  remains  of  one  of  the 
most  faithful  of  students,  he  pronounced  the  following 
eulogium : — 

Had  these  rites  been  performed,  as  was  intended, 
in  the  Chapel  of  the  College,  it  would  have  been  en- 
tirely appropriate  for  me  to  have  stood  as  I  now  stand, 
by  these  mute  remains,  and  utter  one  last  word  of 
honor  and  affection.  It  is  much  less  befitting  that  my 
voice  should  be  lifted  up  within  these  walls,  and  yet, 
as  I  have  been  asked,  I  am  ready  to  bear  my  testi- 
mony to  the  character  of  him  whose  body  lies  before 
us.  Here,  in  these  consecrated  courts,  and  before 
God's  Altar,  I  give  witness  to  the  fidelity  of  this  young 
life,  often  troubled,  often  baffled,  and  yet,  as  I  believe, 
persistent  and  devoted,  endeavoring  to  do  his  best,  a 
warm,  devoted  friend,  a  clear-minded  pupil,  and  so 
meriting  not  only  the  approval  of  his  teachers,  but,  if 
I  may  say  it  reverently,  the  approval  of  his  Creator. 
The  days  of  his  youth  are  cut  short,  and  he  is  called 
away,  as  we  are  apt  to  phrase  it,  before  his  time.  But 
what  time  was  more  truly  his,  than  that  in  which  he 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  123 

had  reached  the  highest  limit  of  earthly  achievement 
in  his  self-sacrifice  ?  What  opportunities  are  ours, 
as  we  linger  on,  seeking  to  still  our  listless  desires  or 
subdue  our  selfish  wills ;  what  are  ours,  beyond  that 
one,  sudden,  entire  opportunity  of  his  upon  the  battle- 
field ?  He  feared  God  and  honored  the  King ;  that 
is,  he  honored  the  law  and  the  government  of  his 
country,  and  when  the  hour  came  to  live  or  to  die  for 
them,  he  was  ready  to  live  or  to  die,  as  might  be  best 
for  him  and  for  them.  So  closed  an  honorable  career ; 
and  if  we  think  it  too  brief,  if  we  mourn  the  end  that 
came  before  we  were  ready  to  have  it  come,  let  us 
remember  that  the  life  of  our  departed  brother  is 
lengthened  beyond  the  span  of  ordinary  lives  by  the 
light  it  enjoys  and  the  duration  it  partakes  in  common 
with  the  lives  of  all  the  true  and  faithful  who  have 
passed  from  mortality  to  immortality. 

,  The  scene  during  Professor  ELTOT'S  remarks  was 
impressive  and  solemn.  The  sombre  church  dark- 
ened, the  Christmas  evergreens,  the  hushed  silence, 
broken  only  by  the  sobs  of  the  bereaved  mother,  all 
tended  to  give  an  additional  power  and  effect  to  his 
remarks,  which  sank  deep  into  the  hearts  of  all  his 
listeners. 

The  body  was  then  taken  to  Zion's  Hill  Cemetery, 
where  the  concluding  services  were  read  by  Dr. 
CLARK,  and  all  that  was  mortal  of  Lieut.  D.  P. 
DEWEY  was  consigned  to  its  last  resting-place. 


124  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

FROM  LYRA  GERMANICA. 

"  When  I  have  conquer'd ;  then  at  last 

My  course  is  run,  good  night ! 
I  am  well  pleased  that  it  is  past ; 

A  thousand  times,  good  night ! 
But  ye  dear  friends,  whom  I  must  leave, 

Look  not  thus  anxiously ; 
Why  should  you  thus  lament  and  grieve  ? 

It  standeth  well  with  me. 

Farewell,  O  anguish,  pain  and  fear, 

Farewell,  farewell  for  ever, 
It  glads  my  heart  to  leave  you  here, 

Redeem'd  from  you  for  ever  ! 
Henceforth  a  life  of  joy  I  share 

In  my  Creator's  hand  ; 
None  of  the  griefs  can  touch  me  there 

That  haunt  this  lower  land. 

Who  yet  o'er  earth  in  time  must  roam, 

Not  yet  from  error  free, 
Scarce  lisp  the  language  of  our  home, 

The  glad  eternity. 
Far  better  is  a  happy  death 

Than  worldly  life,  I  trow  ; 
The  weakness  once  I  sank  beneath, 

I  never  more  shall  know. 

Lay  on  my  coffin  many  a  wreath, 

For  conquerors  wreath'd  are  seen ; 
And  lo  !  my  soul  attains  through  death 

The  crown  of  evergreen, 
That  blooms  in  fadeless  groves  of  heaven  ; 

And  this  fair  victor's  crown, 
The  mighty  Son  of  God  hath  given, 

Who  for  my  sake  came  down. 


DANIEL   PERKINS   DEWEY.  125 

'Twos  but  a  while  that  I  was  sent 

To  dwell  among  you  here  ; 
Now  God  resumes  what  he  hath  lent 

Oh  grieve  not  o'er  my  bier  ;* 
But  say,  'twas  given  at  His  command] 

Who  takes  it,  He  is  just ; 
Our  life  and  death  are  in  His  hand, 

His  servants  can  but  trust. 

That  ye  should  see  my  grave,  alas ! 

Shows  we  are  frail  indeed, 
That  it  so  soon  should  come  to  pass 

Our  Father  hath  decreed  ; 
And  He  your  bitter  grief  shall  still. 

Think  not  too  young  am  I, 
For  he  who  dies  as  God  doth  will, 

Is  old  enough  to  die. 

Farewell,  thou  dear,  dear  soul,  farewell ! 

To  those  sweet  pleasures  go, 
That  we  who  mourning  here  must  dwell 

Not  yet,  alas  !  can  know. 
Ah  when  shall  that  great  day  be  come 

When  these  things  fade  away, 
And  Thou  shalt  bid  us  welcome  home, 

Would  God  it  were  to-day  !" — Sacer,  1865. 

*  "  If  I  never  come  home  again  you  must  not  grieve  for  me, 
but  rather  contemplate  the  glorious  cause  in  which  I  fell.  I  have 
every  trust  in  a  kind  Providence  and  whatever  He  orders  we 
must  all  submit  to."  Page  68. 

11* 


126  A   MEMORIAL   OP 

The  record  of  this  short  life  is  now  ended. 
From  childhood  to  the  years  of  opening  man- 
hood it  has  been  a  bright  career.  Coming  into 
the  field,  crossing  it  and  vanishing  into  the  in- 
finite beyond,  like  some  bright  planet  which 
the  astronomer  sees  through  his  telescope,  one 
human  soul !  of  more  value,  our  Divine  Master 
has  told  us,  than  the  whole  world  ! 

And  what  a  myriad  of  lives  have  been  sac- 
rificed since  this  terrible  war  begun  !  Multi- 
tudes amongst  them  have  doubtless  gone  to 
their  everlasting  rest.  But  when  "  the  Lord 
writeth  up  the  people,"  what  answer  can  those 
miserable  men  give  who  have  brought  this  war 
upon  us,  for  "  the  people"  that  have  perished 
by  their  iniquity  ?  "  Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will 
repay,  saith  the  Lord."  And  to  the  oppressors 
of  a  helpless  race  a  judgment  is  surely  coming, 
for  "  He  shall  judge  the  poor  of  the  people,  he 
shall  save  the  children  of  the  needy,  and  shall 
break  in  pieces  thetoppressor" 

May  we  "be  purified  from  all  our  national 
sins,"  by  this  dreadful  punishment  which  has 
been  sent  upon  us,  and  may  the  time  come  when 
"  Nation  shall  not  lift  up  sword  against  nation, 
neither  shall  they  learn  war  any  more," 


HMBflflH 


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